


The Detective and the artist

by SalconeDestrivina



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ancient History, Art, Bartender - Freeform, Blade Masters, Codes & Ciphers, Conspiracy Theories, Fluff, Heartbreak, M/M, Making up my own tags, Murder, Secret Identity, Secret Society, Secrets, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, Time Jump, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:30:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 22,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1367314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalconeDestrivina/pseuds/SalconeDestrivina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a secret...a big one...What happens when John and Lestrade walk into 221b and find out exactly what that secret is? Due to complaints rating changed to 'M'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secret Revealed

"When I get in there I'm going to kick his arse." Lestrade grumbled to John who merely shrugged. "I mean it's only 5 and the git wont answer his phone!"

"Greg he might have fallen asleep." John explained always one to stick out his neck for a friend. "John it's five in the afternoon and he hasn't left the flat in at least two weeks…You know it will be bad."

John nodded knowing what the Detective Inspector was implying. "You think he's relapsed…"

Greg sighed before giving a nod. "I know you don't want to hear it but these signs are a bit not good alright? This is generally the stuff we look out for before we do a drugs bust…so just prepare for the worst alright?"

 

John and Greg silently walked up the stairs, skipping over the one that creaked trying not to alert the detective inside the flat of their presence. John held a finger to his lips as he quietly slipped his key in the lock and opened the door only to stop in confusion.

"John what is…what the hell?"

Lying on the couch in his blue robe was Sherlock. His face relaxed in sleep. But what really surprised the two was the small man lying across his chest, all curled up and also asleep.

"Who the hell is that?" John forgot to whisper making the two jolt up in surprise.

"What are you doing here?!" Sherlock exclaimed making the small and mysterious person frown. "Well I guess secrets out of the bag now… to be clear I didn't do it." He said as he got to his feet and stretched languorously. "Who wants tea?" he asked before moving into the kitchen very much aware of the stares he was drawing.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes John."

"He has very colorful hair…"

Sherlock made a show of leaning back to look into the kitchen "yes he does." He finally said ignoring the fact that the person he was just curled up on the couch with had longish hair with streaks of blue, green, pink, purple, red, and yellow stripes which made a bold statement. John started to say something before closing his mouth with a shake of the head. "Now do either of you want tea?"

 

John and Greg sat across from the couch where Sherlock sat down and the mystery person had his legs thrown over Sherlock's lap. Both were sipping tea as if nothing unusual has happened.

"Okay I have to ask…Sherlock who the hell is he?" Greg finally broke down and asked making him smirk.

"His name is Ciaran Mac Amhlaoibh and…well he's my husband…don't tell Mycroft." Sherlock said as both of them spit out their tea and 'Ciaran' laughed. "See I told you, you should have introduced me earlier." He laughed and handed them some napkins.

John looked highly confused. "I don't understand…how long have you two been married?" He asked making Sherlock grimace. "Go ahead Sherl…tell them." Ciaran's eyes pierced the detectives giving Lestrade the impression that this was the only person in the world that Sherlock was afraid of.

"Well John…Ciaran and I have been married…going on two years now… but been together for six years before that."

John stared at the detective. "Wait I've known you for five years…"

"Well done John you can count…OW!" The detective cried when his husband thwacked him upside the head. "Don't be smart." Ciaran smiled before turning back to John.

"Why don't we know about you?" John asked Ciaran looking a little hurt. "Love do you want to start at the beginning while I go get dressed?" the Irish man asked as he left the comfort of his husbands lap to wander into Sherlock's (their?) bedroom.


	2. First Meeting

Sherlock sat on the sofa watching John and Lestrade stare at him with wide eyes. At what point is the beginning? When we first met or when we first started 'dating'? At what point is the actual beginning of a story? He thought to himself then shook his head to clear the thoughts.

"Alright how did you two first meet?" John asked as Ciaran came out of Sherlock's bedroom. "Who wants tea?" He asked with a smile making the other two of them stare yet again.

John couldn't help but stare at Sherlock's husband. Ciaran stood only 5,3 and had skin almost as pale as Sherlock's. His hair was a striking mixture of colors ranging from blue, green, purples and reds all mixed together and instead of the hair laying flat it almost looked as if he had been mildly electrocuted. He was dressed as a punk rocker, adorned with chains that wrapped around his waist and draped over his legs. He jingled when he walked. But the most surprising thing shocked John most of all when Ciaran handed him his tea.

Ciaran had bright purple eyes.

"You have purple eyes…" John remarked making the detective scoff. "Thank you for that obvious observation John…anything else you wish to impart on us?" He snarled then winced as Ciaran slapped him upside the head. "Don't be snide. Yes John I have Alexandria genesis which turns your eyes purple… Now I believe…Lestrade is it? Asked a question Sherlock." The small Irishman said as he sat next to the detective and draped his legs over Sherlock's lap.

"The beginning then.."

 

Sherlock was strolling down the street admiring the scene before him with hope in his heart and a jaunt to his step.

At this point John reached over and slapped the detective upside the head. Making Ciaran laugh. "Alright fine the real story."

 

Sherlock raced down the street, chasing

"Obviously Mr. Sampson crashed into the Kiosk at high sped causing the kiosk to flip over spilling the paintings everywhere. Now are there any other inane questions you would like to ask?" Sherlock snapped at the person before looking up into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. They were a vibrant purple and were surprisingly amused. "I can see that but what I meant was why he crashed into my stand." The man smiled down at him.

My face feels hot…why does my face feel hot? Sherlock thought to himself before he handcuffed the suspect to a wrought iron fence. "That guy who handcuffed him were chasing 'im down the street." Derek replied as a police car pulled up alongside the group.

"Damn it Sherlock! Can't you ever just wait for us?!" an older gentleman almost yelled as he got out of the car. "Sherlock? Man I thought I had it bad." The man chuckled as he picked up the paintings. Sherlock glared at him making him laugh out loud.

"hello Sherlock my name is Ciaran Mac Amhlaoibh. How do you do?" He smiled making Sherlock's face get hot again.

"Irish people aside, I see you caught him. Now are you going to follow me back to the Yard or are you just going to go off on your own again?" the copper said making the Sherlock glare at him.

"I am perfectly capable of finding my own way Lestrade." Sherlock snapped at him before turning back to Ciaran, only to find he was gone. "Sorry bout that mate, he had to split." Derek said as he replaced the last painting which caught Sherlock's eye.

It was of a large skull.

 

"Wait so you literally ran into him?" John asked and before Sherlock could respond Ciaran slapped a hand over the offending mouth. "Technically the suspect ran my Kiosk." He smiled as Lestrade mentally slapped himself. "I remember you! We teased Sherlock for weeks because we caught him blushing!" He smiled making the detective flush in anger. "I wasn't blushing!" he protested.

"Sure you weren't now be getting on with the story!"

 

A few weeks later Sherlock was had successfully put Ciaran out of his mind. That is, until Sherlock was asked to investigate a case of human trafficking.

In order to infiltrate the ring he had to find one of the handlers and the only one they could unearth worked in a gay club.

So he dressed up in his tightest pants, fishnet shirt and glittered his face before going out to the club, quickly gaining access and heading towards the dance floor.

After about an hour of dancing he decided that he hand blended in quite well and headed towards the bar to chat up a bartender as to where his suspect was.

"Fins of Faith please." He said in his most winsome smile which successfully flustered the flamboyant bartender. "Oh I'm so sorry sweetie! I'm off now! But Cere will help you!" he fluttered as another bartender came to take his place.

"Hey there! What can I get you?! Holy crap I know you!" the bartender smiled making Sherlock's eyes go wide. "Sherlock right?"

Crap! He thought then smiled at the other man. "Ciaran right? Or do you go by Cere? I thought you were an artist!" He almost shouted as he saw Ciaran mix his drink. Hopefully he could get some information by using his previous acquaintance with the bartender.

"Oh I bartend too…as you can obviously see…" the Irish man replied making Sherlock grin. "Oh and very nice job by the way."

Sherlock was confused. "Nice job?" He asked when Cere started to fix a couple Sex on the Beaches for some customers. "I don't know what you mean."

"Maintaining eye contact, leaning forward to show signs of interest, Head tipped gently to the side to show signs of harmlessness and of course using my name to induce familiarity…nice job. Now what did you really come up here for? Because I don't think it was a Fins of Faith." Ciaran smiled as Sherlock openly gaped until the bartender lifted a hand and closed the detectives mouth.

"I'm investigating…I need information about one of your co-workers." He finally responded making Ciaran smile. "What kind of information and about who?"

"Do you know if Jeff Bowdeen was working last Thursday between eight pm and three am?"

"I can honestly say no he wasn't. He called me at about eight thirty to cover his shift." Ciaran responded as he handed a customer a yager bomb over sherlocks shoulder. "That's what I thought! Thank you Ciaran!" he shouted before running out the club doors.

"Tuilli didn't pay! Go hifreann leat!" Ciaran swore then turned his attention back to the customers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuilli-bastard
> 
> Go hifreann leat- to hell with you
> 
> Ciaran is very Irish so having him swear in Irish…well that's just fun XD


	3. Origins of Mr. Blue Skull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MR. Blue Skull is the name of Sherlock s skull painting just fyi and I always liked it :)

Something was agitating Sherlock. He knew that he was forgetting something and it was driving him up the wall. He knew it had something to do with the flat... "Painting!" he suddenly jumped up and shouted making Mrs. Hudson spill the tea she was preparing for him. "Oh Sherlock! look what you made me do!" She cried out as he bolted from the flat.

A few quick turns down alleyways and through a set of double doors and he was standing in front of Ciaran. "Are you stalking me?" he smiled at the detective making him glare" What? No of course not, otherwise I would be hidden from you. I want to buy one of your paintings."

Ciaran smiled as he wiped down the bar. "Hi Ciaran, How are you? I'm good how are you Sherlock?" He grinned at the detective making him glare. "I'm fine now about that painting."

"Which painting?"

"The white skull on the blue background." Sherlock sighed. "OH! you want to buy Henry! Alright but it will cost you 150 pounds though." He said then stared as the tall man waived a hand. "That's fine, bring the painting to 221b baker street and I'll give you the money then." He responded before strutting out the door. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm never going to be seen again?" Ciaran asked himself then shrugged and began to slice up fruit for the night's garnishes.

The next day Ciaran found himself standing on the threshold just a little bit confused and perturbed. "I SAID I WAS SORRY!" he shouted as he lifted the painting back into the cab and sighed. "Alright it's not 221 barstow street...ba, ba...barten? Bake...BAKER! 221 baker street please!" He asked the cabbie making the old man chortle. "You got it boss!"

Needless to say when he was dropped off at 221 Baker Street, he was more than a little hesitant to ring the bell, but did so anyways.

"Oh hello dear!" an older woman smiled at him as he mentally slapped himself for the second time. "Oh I am sorry I believe I have the wrong address...again." He said giving his best embarrassed smile. "You never know dear, who are you looking for?" She asked with an indulgent smile. "Well madam, I'm looking for a Sherlock...he never did give me his last name and shouted the address when he was going out the door so I only caught the 221 B bah part of what he was saying." he said with a small smile.

"Oh then it is your lucky day! Sherlock is my tenant! He's just up the stairs!" She smiled and wondered what it was the boy was carrying as it was almost as tall as him.

"Thank you Madam!" He smiled over his shoulder and knocked on the door then winced at the aggravated shout of 'Go AWAY!'

Ciaran found himself smiling at the older woman yet again before he opening the door. "No I will not go away. I've brought you the painting and I'll be damned if I am going to lug it all the way back to my place you git." He said as he walked inside as bold as brass only to be greeted by a half-naked Sherlock carrying a blow torch.

"Oh it only you. I thought you were Lestrade. Now go on let's see the painting." Sherlock said as he nonchalantly put out the blow torch.

oh god...I really REALLY want...not the time Ciaran thought as he began to unwrap the painting he brought with him. "No idea who or what a Lestrade is." he said absentmindedly. "No one important just a DI...I like it."

Lestrade automatically interrupted with a 'hey!' and threw a pillow at Sherlock.

Ciaran grabbed the pillow and threw it back, hitting the detective inspector upside the head. "a bheith ciúin agus éisteacht!" he growled then shook his head at the confused looks. "I actually know that one, he said be quiet and listen…" Sherlock said evenly as he sipped his tea. "Well continue with the story!"

Ciaran shook his head with a small smile. "Well you're supposed to like it. What use is a painting that you don't like?" He said as he turned back towards the detective. "have to ask about the blowtorch though..."

"You wouldn't understand and many people buy painting and tchotchkes that they don't necessarily like. I think i'll hang it here." Sherlock said as he grabbed the painting and held it by the wall. "Well people are weird like that." Ciaran responded as he looked around for a hammer and nail.

"Here hold this right here." Sherlock said and walked over to the kitchen area. "So explain about the blowtorch." Ciaran asked while holding the painting against the wall. "I was trying to melt a gold ring to see the pattern it made." He said simply then stared at the bartender as he nodded. "good thing that Gold has a low melting point."

Sherlock stared at the artist then gave a smile. But before he could speak Mrs. Hudson came into the flat carrying a tea tray. "Oh good your friends still here Sherlock, would you like some tea?" She smiled and ignored the glare from her tenant. "Mrs. Hudson this is Ciaran."

"Hold on. Mrs. Hudson knew Ciaran?" John asked with mixed look of astonishment and anger. "Sort of but not really. Hush now and pay attention." Ciaran smiled at the doctor. For some reason every time Ciaran smiled at him, John felt the over whelming urge to blush.

"Alright that's fair...Wait is anyone else hungry?" He asked trying not to look at the Irishman. "Who wants Chinese?"


	4. Drugs Bust

Unfortunately before they could re-start the story there came a pounding on the door. "Sherlock! Open up!" came a shout from the other side. "Oh man I'm so sorry I forgot to call off the drugs bust!" Lestrade pleaded as Sherlock went to open the door.

Ciaran smiled grimly knowing that he'd be subjected to yet another group of gawkers, only this time he didn't think they were friendly ones.

 

Sherlock opened the door to find Anderson, Sally, Dimmock and a bunch of other cops. "What do you want?" He asked only to be brushed aside. "The detective Inspector told us that if he didn't call within two hours then to start the drugs bust. So stand down freak." Sally snarled as a multitude of people swarmed in from the corridor.

Freak? Ciaran thought to himself and smiled inwardly. He could have a lot of fun with this woman and as long as he didn't damage her he thought he could get away with it as well.

"Well this is exciting, anyone for tea?" He smiled brightly at the soldier and DI sitting across from him. "Oh, yes please." John spoke for both of them and smiled as the Irishman went to go and prepare their drinks.

 

"Hold up..who the hell are you?" Sally asked when this thin rocker type man walked into the kitchen as she was rummaging through the drawers.

"Oh! Hello, I'm Ciaran, how do you do?" He smiled with false kindness. "I'm doing fine… why are you here?" Sally asked suspiciously as the man only beamed at her. "Oh I'm making tea for John and Greg…would you like some as well…I didn't catch your name." he replied as he stuck out a hand for her to shake.

Sally looked at the hand then back at the brightly colored man. "Sally, Sally Donovan."

Why not? She thought as the fact that the man was handsome sunk in. Her Friday night was already ruined by coming here and if she could get a date with a highly attractive man then it wouldn't be a complete waste.

"Oh it is nice to meet a fellow Irish! What part of the Ire do you hail from Mrs. Donovan?" The man beamed as he got out a tea pot. "Cork…and I'm not married."

The man's face fell. "Oh I'm sorry dear heart. I would have sworn that someone would have snatched you up as pretty as you are!" he flirted making her blush.

"Oh no I'm pretty dedicated to my job at the moment…What did you say your name was again?" She smiled gently at the man who stepped closer. "Ciaran Mac Amhlaoibh at your service madam." He smiled yet again.

God he's cute. Sally thought to herself and took a step closer, swinging her curly black hair over her shoulder to reveal the line of her neck. "And what do you do Ciaran?" she all but purred.

"Oh I'm an artist by trade." He smiled back and leaned into her.

Good he's interested… Sally thought and fluttered her eyes at him. "Would you care to go out sometime Ciaran?" she purred at him.

 

Ciaran leaned closer to the woman making sure she saw the line of his body and just as she was about to lean in to him he started to speak. "Madam I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last person in the world. You know why? Because you come in here and immediately insult Sherlock who I am very fond of. That is strike one against you but then you introduced yourself. That was what made you a target my pretty little liar. You see I know you lied about Sherlock all those years ago, I know that you and Anderson went above Lestrades head to get Sherlock fired. You were instrumental in his fall and fake suicide and made everything a whole lot harder for him. Then you come in here and start the same things all over again. I can't stand people like you and you better hope that you don't meet me in a dark alley way sweet heart." He smiled at her though his eyes remained dark.

Sally glared at him as her face contorted into an evil smirk. "And what would you do? Paint me to death?"

"Oh my pretty little liar, I would make those nightmares, those things that wake you up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat come to fruition and I will laugh while doing it." He whispered in her ear and smiled at the squeak that came from her throat, only after that did he lean back.

"Tea?" He smiled sweetly as she paled and hurried from the flat.

 

"Sherlock?"

"Yes John."

"Why did Sally just…well flee?"

Sherlock looked over at his husband who smiled back as be brought the tray of tea over. "Ciaran…what did you say to Sally?" He asked as Ciaran sat down next to him.

"I have no idea we were having a lovely chat when she suddenly just turned and left…Did you know that her family hails from cork?" He smiled serenely at the three and struck up another conversation with them as Anderson toddled over to give a nod towards Sherlock.

John stared at the man for a second as he sipped his tea. He knew, just KNEW that there was something off about this man. Not just off…something dangerous.


	5. First Dates AKA Stake Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay but...yea Ciaran said he had something to do but wouldn't tell me what then just sort or ran off... then Sherlock ran to find him and John and Lestrade showed up early... it was just one giant cluster fuck...but now they’re all here and Ciaran has promised not to run off for the foreseeable future... but I wouldn't bet on it... any-who, on with chapter five!

While Sherlock and Lestrade set out the Chinese food John watched Ciaran. He had seen the look in Ciaran's eyes when he was talking to Sally. He had seen that look before, mainly on the enemy soldiers in Afghanistan. The look spoke of predator and prey.

"So Ciaran, what did you do before you became a bartender?" John asked as he fought with his chopsticks. "Oh I was an artist."

"And before that?"

"I did the odd job here and there for my family." Ciaran smiled at the army doctor. He knew of Johns suspicions and was working to alleviate them. "So Sherlock, continue the story. What happened on the date?" Lestrade interrupted John's line of questioning.

"How about the second one Sherl?" Ciaran grimaced alongside his husband which only fanned the flames of their curiosity.

"Oh no, now you have to tell us what happened!" Greg insisted and, to his surprise, Sherlock drew a breath and started to do so.

 

Mrs. Hudson looked between her tenant and the strange man standing in the sitting area. "Oh dear I've interrupted something haven't I?" She gasped then tried not to wince as Sherlock glared at her. "I was going to offer him some tea already but thank you Mrs. Hudson." He said simply and the older woman realized that Sherlock was on his best manners. Oh I should have this man around more often if Sherlock is going to act like this! She thought to herself with a smile. "Well I'll just bring some up for you both shall I?" She beamed and left the room.

"House keeper?"

"Landlady actually. But she does act like a house keeper." Sherlock muttered to Ciaran. "There is something else I would like to talk to you about while I have your attention.

Ciaran looked over at the tall detective and tipped his head in confusion. "Alright then, what is it?" He said no unkindly.

"I...well...hmm...I wish to make it known that..." He started but broke off when Mrs. Hudson came in with the tea. "Good thing I already had a full pot going!" Her beaming smile fell as she fled from the glare Sherlock threw at her.

"What do you wish to make known?" Ciaran asked with a brave smile making Sherlock's face get hot again. Why does it keep doing that?

"I wish to...I would like..." Sherlock fiddled with his tea cup trying to find the right words. "I wish to make it known that I would like to start a relationship with you. Hopefully a romantic relationship but I would not be adverse to a platonic one either..." Sherlock muttered in a rush of words.

Ciaran stared at Sherlock until he shifted uncomfortably. His past experiences with admitting his attraction had not gone over well and just as he was about to retract his statement Ciaran smiled at him.

"I would love to go on a date with you."

 

Sherlock swore in several languages as he grabbed his foot in pain. He was in such a rush to get out the door that he had stubbed his toe on the coffee table. "Keys, wallet...Phone where is my phone?" He asked himself as he patted his pockets. "Gland experiment." he muttered and darted back to the kitchen to find his phone sitting next to the lit Bunsen burner. "Experiments are off, have keys wallet, phone need a coat."

He had just grabbed his coat when a knock came at the door making him jump. "Didn't hesitate, has been here before. Or is just used to knocking on doors. Knocked on middle of door so he's a tad short..."his mind whirled as he opened the door to find Ciaran on the other side. "Ciaran what a surprise!" He beamed as the other man's brow furrowed in confusion. "Surprise?"

"Yes as in I wasn't expecting you."

"You...weren't expecting me?" Ciaran remarked slowly looking very confused.

"No... Should I have?" Sherlock asked as he locked his door behind him.

"Sherlock...its Friday."

"Yes last day of the work week. Was there something special about today that I should have remembered?"

There wasn't a great many things that could make Ciaran wish to slam his head against the wall but somehow Sherlock was managing it with ease.

"Sherlock we made plans for a date...this Friday at eight...Which was five minutes ago...If you wish not to go we can always reschedule if your busy."

Sherlock stared at the artist for a second. "We made a date when you dropped off the painting."

"Yes."

"A date in the romantic sense."

*sigh* "Yes Sherlock yes we did."

"I had forgotten lets go." Sherlock smiled as he grabbed his date by the hand and dragged him out the door. It was perfect really now he had company on his stake out. Scratch that, company he actually liked.

 

"A stake out..."

"Yes."

"Your first date was on a stake out."

"Oh just wait it gets better." Ciaran's eyes twinkled as he prodded his husband to continue the story.

 

Sherlock dragged his date out of 221B Baker Street and into a cab. "Alright let's be off." Sherlock smiled and told the cab driver the address of the restaurant then turned back to his date.

"You cut your hair."

Ciaran lifted a hand to his hair self-consciously. Where it had been all one length it was now short and choppy with the front part left long to hang down to an inch above his shoulders. "It was time for a trim and I figured why not just get a new cut while I was at it." He muttered and tried not to squeak as Sherlock leaned in close.

"It's short in the back but long in the front. You obviously cannot stand having hair tickle your neck so why leave the front long? You would obviously rather have your hair short all the way around but something is preventing you from doing it. Something you'd rather not have anyone see but you are not embarrassed by it. It's located somewhere high on your neck...a tattoo perhaps? I wish to see." Sherlock asked quickly leaning forward into his date's personal space.

"I'll show you if you back up, you're in my bubble." Ciaran scolded as he lifted the left side of his hair up and showed Sherlock the markings that adorned his skin.

Starting from behind his ear and stretching down a trail of small symbols seemed to flow down the side of Ciarans neck to disappear beneath his collar. Each symbol varied in size and shape and no two symbols were alike.

"That's beautiful...why hide it?" Sherlock asked as he lifted a finger to trace a large slightly anchored shape right beneath his ear lobe. "It's a family thing and somewhat personal." Was all Ciaran said and even when pressed, would say no more about it.

 

"Two please." Sherlock told the Maître D who gave a slight sneer at them. "Of course sirs, this way if you please."

Once they were seated by the window Sherlock had a hard time dividing his attention between watching for the suspect and listening to Ciaran. "What is so interesting?" The Irishman asked leaning over to look out the window. "Nothing...please continue."

"Ha either I'm boring you or you're watching for something... which is it?" He asked his violet eyes glowing slightly in the candle light. "I'm actually supposed to be on a stake out right now..." Sherlock admitted and then wilted under the purple stare.

"A stake out?"

"Yes."

"What are you looking for?"

"A tallish man with blond hair and green eyes, his name is Rupert De' Chavelle and he's a suspect in a murder..." He admitted quietly and frowned at his plate. He didn't remember eating the pasta.

"Okay...and I'm distracting you aren't I?" Ciaran asked as he toyed with his spoon. "A little bit yes..."

"Okay then I'll go and let you catch this guy alright?" He smiled sadly making Sherlock pale.

Ciaran wasn't supposed to be sad and just leave. He was supposed to rage at him for taking him out on a stake out...everyone else had done so, so why didn't he?

"No stay...he's probably not even going to show up anyways and I like talking to you." Sherlock smiled at the man who smiled and sat back down at the table. "What's for dessert?"

 

They were halfway through their cheese cake and vanilla mousse when a man entered the restaurant. "Why are you two watching me?" He demanded as he walked over to their table, his blond hair shining in the florescent lighting and his green eyes flashing with malice. "Who's watching you?" Ciaran asked quickly and drew his attention. "Both of you were I could see you stare out the window."

"Oh that...we weren't watching you we were waiting to see if it would rain. You see He thinks it's going to rain but I don't think it will...we have a bet going." Ciaran beamed then jumped as the blond man slammed his fist down on the table. "You have beautiful eyes...I wonder how they would look in a jar."

Sherlock stood and grabbed Ciarans hand. "Leave him alone, we're leaving now and there is no need for threatening behavior." He said as he drew Ciaran to his side. "I do believe there is." The suspect snarled at the couple.

 

John and Lestrade stared at Sherlock, waiting for the story to continue. "Well what happened?" Greg asked.

"Ciaran fell asleep."

"Wait the man threatens him and he just falls asleep?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and then drew their attention to the man sleeping on his shoulder. "No just now, Ciaran fell asleep. We'll pick this up tomorrow." Sherlock managed to snap and whisper at the same time which was impressive.

"Alright we'll let you put him to bed, but we'll be back in the morning to hear the rest of this story!" Greg smiled as he and John said their good byes.

 

After they left Sherlock gently moved so that his husband was laying against his chest rather than just his shoulder. Maneuvering him ever so carefully Sherlock picked up his husband and carried him into his bedroom, laying him down and tucking him in.

"If you're not actually asleep I'm going to kill you." the detective whispered as he pressed a gently kiss to his husbands forehead making him grumble. He then climbed in beside the sleeping man and after pulling him against his chest, went to sleep himself.


	6. Dinner(s)

Sherlock struggled through the veil of sleep. He needed to wake but the veil refused to lift. "This is why I hate to sleep" He thought to himself. When he finally managed to tear open his eyes he sees the sweetest sight he always relishes to see.

Ciaran was paying curled up in his arms, he face pressed against his chest. The Irishman had one leg thrown over his and one of his arms draped over his chest. He was in a deep sleep.

Sherlock was loathe to wake his sleeping love and had only just decided not to when a knock came at the door. Ciaran jolted awake making Sherlock growl. Sometimes he hated the people he associated with and this was one of those times. "I'm awake." Ciaran yawned and struggled to sit up making Sherlock smile. He remembered the first time he had seen Ciaran do this and it never got old.

About a month into their relationship Sherlock had kept Ciaran occupied until the early morning hours. To be fair Ciaran had only been keeping him company while he struggled to solve a particularly vexing case and had forgotten to leave. At the moment said Irishman was asleep on Sherlock's shoulder.

Should I wake him or let him sleep?" The detective thought as he pondered his dilemma. He had not been good with social norms to begin with but now he was in the middle of a crisis. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.

"I'm just going to let him sleep but the couch is uncomfortable so I should place him somewhere where he will get a better quality of rest. The only place that is better to sleep on then the couch is my bed... But would that be considered too fast? I mean he's only going to sleep and I would be mainly in here with the case...What should I do?

Sherlock went over it in his mind for a good half an hour before making up his mind. He would just let Ciaran sleep in his bed and stay out here for the night. That way there is no miscommunication as to what happened and Ciaran would get a better quality of rest. That was the only thing he could think of to do. So he gently picked up the sleeping man and carried him into his bedroom to place him under the covers.

Giving a nod he gently closed the door and went back into the living room to finish the case.

The next morning Sherlock woke with a start with his cheek pressed against the arm of the sofa. He had fallen asleep sometime in the night. Better go check on Ciaran. He thought to himself. Besides it was his bedroom and he needed clothes for the day.

He quietly pushed open the door trying not to wake Ciaran who was curled up in the middle of the bed, still soundly asleep. "Oh good he's still asleep...Now to grab my clothes." He thought to himself and crept over to his closet for a shirt and pants. He didn't care if he didn't grab socks but he needed some clothes because after sleeping in the clothes he had on yesterday he felt grimy.

He slowly opened the door to his closet and then winced at the creak the hinges made. He had been meaning to oil them for some time.

Looking over his shoulder he breathed a sigh of relief that Ciaran was still asleep and slowly opened the closet door a little more. Only this time, instead of just the creaking, a box fell from the top shelf to land on some vials he stored at the bottom of the closet. The boxes and the vials came together with a crash and the tinkering of broken glass.

"I'm awake!" Ciaran gasped and jolted up to blink his bleary eyes at Sherlock. "Well there's no need to be so go back to sleep. I was just grabbing some clothes when this box fell so go back to sleep." Sherlock whispered and suddenly felt the need to hide in the closet. Why he did not know.

"That's alright I'm already awake...and in your bed?" Ciaran pondered as he looked over the bedspread. "Yes you fell asleep on my shoulder last night so I brought you in here to rest. Since I was going to spend most of the night on the sofa anyways I did not see the harm in doing so...Though I should not have done?" He asked.

Ciaran pondered for a moment before smiling at Sherlock. "That's alright thought you could have just left me there and I wouldn't have noticed a thing. But thank you for the thought." He smiled and walked over to press a kiss to Sherlock's cheek making the detective blush.

 

"Alright time to get up!" Came a shout from the hallway making Sherlock glare and cling onto Ciaran. "I think John left his gun here if you distract them I can get to it, soot them and then we can go back to bed..." Sherlock growled against Ciaran's neck making him laugh. "Come on Love, the quicker we do this the quicker we can get back into bed." He soothed before giving a yank that pulled Sherlock out of bed and onto the floor with a yelp. "Oh that's it I'm about to become a widow." The detective snarled as he lunged for Ciaran.

Ciaran gave a small cry of surprise before bolting out into the living room, clutching Sherlock's sheet. "Bring it!" He cried as he ran around the living room. He loved being chased by Sherlock, for he was the only one smart enough and fast enough to catch him. Which he did, and rather quickly as well.

With one good lunge Sherlock managed to tackle his husband who gave a surprised cry. Luckily they managed to land onto the couch where they fought over the sheet like two small children. "That's mine." Sherlock growled and Ciaran tried very hard not to laugh. "We're married so only half of it is yours, LOVE." He giggled then winced as the front door flew open to reveal John and Greg standing on the threshold. "Jesus Sherlock! I thought that you and Ciaran were being attacked!" John snarled at the man who only glared at him.

"Well technically..." Ciaran trailed off on a laugh as Sherlock went for his ribs. "Do it..." He muttered and ticked the man beneath him viscously until he got a bad case of the hiccups. "Thank you." Sherlock smiled at the man before grabbing his sheet.

"Did you really just tickle your husband until he got the hiccups?" John asked. Sherlock merely lifted an eye brow at the question. "He had my sheet."

"Alright never mind. We brought breakfast...I'm going to get your husband some water." then you can continue the story." John said as he went to do precisely that.

 

The suspect leaned over the table to loom over the Irishman. "I want to know why you were staring at me!" The man snarled.

Then Ciaran did something entirely unexpected. With one quick move he slammed the heel of his hand up into the suspect's nose, breaking it with one quick move.

The suspect howled in pain as he grabbed his nose, which gave Ciaran the space to scoot out from the corner that he had been backed up in. "I keep telling you that we were not staring at you. Now leave us be!" Ciaran growled as he slipped past De' Chavelle and held up two clenched fists.

But before De' Chavelle could attack back, five coppers burst in through the door and held the three at gun point. "On the ground NOW!'

 

"Wait a second your first date ended with you two getting arrested for violence?" John asked and tried not to laugh at Sherlock's sulk. "The date was not supposed to end that way!" he cried making Ciaran laugh. "And it didn't remember?"


	7. Mr. Kitty Protects Me From Rabid Squirrels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From now on the chapter titles will be random quotes from that chapter...cause I have no idea how to title things...

After being sprung from jail Sherlock and Ciaran hopped into a cab to go to another restaurant. To be fair they didn't really eat much when on the impromptu stake out slash date. "Lets try this again shall we?" Sherlock asked quietly making Ciaran smile. "Definitely...though no murderers alright?"

That date went off without a hitch, both parties actually paying attention to the conversation and they ended up staying until the host came over to kick them out. "Alright you two, we have to close up now...please take your gooey-ness to another location please." He grinned as he gave them their bill, which was then fought over until they decided to split it.

"What did he mean by gooey-ness?" Sherlock asked as they walked down the street. "No idea." Ciaran smiled up at the pale eyed detective.

They walked for maybe a block before Sherlock jumped at the feel of Ciaran's hand that had somehow entwined with his.

He looked over at Ciaran to find the small Irishman looking forward with a slight blush staining his cheeks.

Ciaran walked Sherlock home and blushed when he dropped him off at the door. "Talk to you later?" He asked then tilted up on his toes to skim his lips over the man's cheek. "I'll see you around Sherlock."

The next morning Sherlock found himself sitting in his chair staring off into space. He didn't know what to make of his date last night. Ciaran had been arrested during dinner and instead of breaking the date off there (like a normal person would) he suggested another try at dinner. Then he held his hand and kissed his cheek. Did that mean he liked the date? If he did, would he want to go out again? Sherlock didn't mind if he did but he had no way of knowing what Ciaran thought.

People were confusing.

 

Two days later Sherlock phone rang while he was on a crime scene and, not thinking, answered it.

"Oh good I have the right number haha, Its Ciaran."

Sherlock jolted up making Anderson flinch. Covering the mouth piece with one hand he nodded towards Lestrade. "Excuse me I have to take this." he said and walked out the door while the Detective Inspector cursed.

"Hi Ciaran."

"Hi Sherlock."

"What can I do for you?"

"Many things probably but I called to see if you wanted to go out again..."

Sherlock stared off into space as his mind whirled.

"If you don't want too..."

"No no I do want to go out again... When would you like to go...out?"

Ciaran laughed on the other end of the phone.

"How about this Friday? I promise to behave if you promise not to do an impromptu stake out. Haha."

"Alright, shall I meet you somewhere or do you just want to meet at my flat again?"

"Your flat is fine with me, Hey if you don't feel like going out we can do dinner and a movie on your sofa if you want."

"That sounds...What the hell are you doing? Go away." Sherlock snapped as Donovan tried to scoot over to eavesdrop on his conversation and with a huff flounced off.

"Let me try that again, that sounds nice. What dinner would you like?"

"No idea, I can cook something if you want."

Sherlock stopped and thought about the state of the kitchen and all the experiments he had going.

"Or we could order in if you want."

"That would probably be best as I have a lot of experiments going on in the kitchen...So Friday then?"

"What time should I be there?"

"Doesn't matter as long as you come over."

"Alright then, Friday it is."

 

If anyone had looked into 221b Baker Street come Friday they would have noticed something very odd going on. Then again there is ALWAYS someone watching.

They would have seen Sherlock running around his flat, in a suit, cleaning everything he could. Which was very suspicious behavior.

"Sherlock...what ARE you doing?" Mycroft asked from the doorway making him jolt. "Cleaning, surely you have heard of it?"

Sherlock's response set off warning bells in Mycroft's head. Sherlock did not clean. Not for company and surely not just for the hell of it. "Why are you cleaning?"

"I'm getting ready for company. Now please leave he will be here soon with some boring movie no doubt."

"Movie?"

"Yes we are having dinner and a movie. Now will you please leave?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you are having a night in with...a friend?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. He had forgotten that Mycroft was no longer the easy going teenager that Sherlock had been used to. Now he needed to know EVERYTHING that went on in Sherlock's life and had a nasty habit of getting rid of 'undesirable' people.

"It's an experiment. I'm trying to see if someone will willingly tell another person anything because they had gotten to know them. Now please leave you will interfere with the results."

Mycroft sighed at his brothers tone. He had hoped, for once, that Sherlock had made a friend. He thought he had with that man he was seen with last Friday as they had gone to dinner twice (in one evening).

"Alright dear brother, just remember that people don't like being lied to."

 

After an hour of waiting and worrying about if everything was put away, the doorbell finally rang.

"I'LL GET IT!" He shouted down at his landlady and sprinted down the stairs and opened the door to find a surprised Ciaran standing on the other side. "Hi."

"Hello."

"May I come in? I sware I'm only trying to sell you some encyclopedias." Ciaran joked making him chuckle. Sherlock moved aside letting the man in and taking note of his clothing.

He was dressed in large black pants that had chains wrapped around the waist to dangle around his hips. He had on a black long sleeve shirt with strange writing over the fabric and a short sleeve shirt on over that with a picture of a strange pink teddy bear on it with a mow hawk and piercings. His hair was still the same though, short in the back, long in the front and as black as midnight. Then he noticed the small blue stuffed duck hanging from one of the chains.

"I have to ask about the duck." Sherlock queried as he followed his date up to his flat.

Ciaran turned around and gave Sherlock a sly smile. "Oh that's Mr. Kitty he protects me from rabid squirrels."

Sherlock just nodded and followed the strange person up the stairs. At least he wasn't boring.

Turns out that Ciaran doesn't like action films and they watched a documentary called Life in the Undergrowth. Semi-useless information but fascinating in any case. "I adored the large red and black Millipedes. I want one!" Ciaran exclaimed as they switched disks. "I want the bat eating centipede." Sherlock remarked wondering what kind of venom it had and how potent it was.

"True those are cool too but then you'd have to keep catching bats to feed the damn thing." Ciaran laughed making Sherlock grin. "True, but think about the venom it has..." he responded making Ciaran laugh.

"Alright you have a point...But now I think it's time for a break and I'm hungry anyways. What do you want to order?"

"Curry?"

"I can do curry."

After the curry had been eaten they sat down to watch the second disk of the documentary.

Ciaran smiled as he felt Sherlock scooting closer to him, ever so slightly. So he leaned over and pressed himself against Sherlock's side, drawing an arm around his shoulders. "That's better, do you mind?"

Sherlock blushed and clutched at him. "No I don't mind at all."

Ciaran left soon afterwards, leaving Sherlock with a small kiss to his cheek. This confused the detective more than anything he's ever encountered. Then again, human interaction generally did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Life in the Undergrowth is actually a documentary but just something that I pulled out of thin air like a magician... Its really cool you should check it out!


	8. And He Is Doing What Exactly?

Soon Sherlock and Ciaran had a standing date for Friday nights. That is, until one week they did not.   
"Hey Sherlock?"  
"Yes?"  
Sherlock looked over from his now usual place on the couch to focus on the man curled up on his side. Perhaps he wished to take their relationship to 'the next level'.   
"Just wanted you to know that I won't be able to make it next Friday. My co-worker was fired and Mike asked me to fill in for him next Friday."  
Sherlock stared at the Irishman. He thought he would want to progress in their relationship but instead he was canceling. Perhaps he had done something wrong. But to be sure he would try to change the night instead.  
"Oh...Alright...would you like to try for Saturday or Sunday?" Sherlock asked thinking that if Ciaran did not want to change the night of their date then he had done something wrong. He was sure of it.  
Ciaran beamed at him. He really loved it when Ciaran smiled at him, that way he knew he did something good. "Unfortunately I'm working Saturday but Sunday will be lovely." He said and curled back up into Sherlock’s side. Which confused him a little more as everything he thought Ciaran would do, he did the opposite.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Friday night came and Sherlock was working a case as his usual plans had been disrupted. He was tracking a small time drug dealer that DI Dimmock asked him to find. Being bored Sherlock agreed, much to Lestrades discomfort.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
He tracked the man across town and into a little known bar. Ciaran works here He thought as he entered the establishment, already thinking of asking the Irishman if he would help him track down the drug dealer.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
He knew that the Irishman was working tonight but was a little confused when he did not see Ciaran behind the bar. “Hello sweetie! What can I get for you?” said the short red head behind the bar. “I’m looking for Ciaran, I thought he was working tonight.” He said making the red head smile.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“He is working Sug, But he’s not a bartender tonight, he’s entertainment! Wait a minute and you’ll see him on stage!” the red head grinned at Sherlocks discomfort.   
Sherlock sighed and turned towards the stage. This turned out to be a big mistake.   
Ciaran was indeed up on stage but at the moment he was not singing or dancing, he was only messing with the microphone and making strange gestures towards the lights. “And he is doing what exactly?” Sherlock asked the red head making him laugh. “Oh he’s doing prep for his song. You see, one of the entertainers was fired so the manager asked Ciar to fill in for tonight and the next.” He smiled then turned towards the stage.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Ciaran sighed as he picked up his guitar and strummed a chord. “Alright people, this is ‘Back Home in Derry.” He said into the microphone and began to strum and sing. 

In 1803, we sailed out to sea  
Out of the sweet town of Derry  
For Australia bound, if we didn't all drown  
The marks of out fetters we carried  
In our rusty iron chains, we cried for our wains  
Our good women we left in sorrow  
As the mainsails unfurled, our curses we hurled  
At the English and thoughts of tomorrow

Sherlock stared at his boyfriend as he stood on the stage and sang the sad tune. Even the bar had quieted to hear what he sang. 

At the mouth of the Foyle bid farwell to the soil  
As down below decks we were lying.  
O'Docherty' screamed, woken out of a dream  
By a vision of bold Robert dying.  
The sun burned cruel as we dished out the gruel  
Dan O'Connor was down with a fever  
Sixty rebels today bound for Botany Bay.  
How many would reach their receiver?

Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry  
Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry

We cursed them to Hell,  
As our bow fought the swell  
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelight.  
Wild horses rode high as the devil passed by  
Taking souls into Hades by twilight  
Five weeks out to sea we were now 43  
We buried our comrades each morning  
In our own slime, lost in a time,  
Endless nights without dawning

Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry  
Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry

Sherlock could see the tears in the corner of the Irishman’s eyes. He was obviously thinking of his home back in Ireland. Where in Ireland Sherlock did not know. Thinking back on the last few conversations he’s had with Ciaran Sherlock realized that he didn’t know much about his boyfriends life before he came to London.

Van Diemens Land is a hell for a man  
To live out his whole life in slavery  
Where the climate is raw and the gun makes the law  
Neither wind nor rain care for bravery  
Twenty years have gone by and I've ended my bond  
My comrades' ghosts walk beside me  
A rebel I came; I'm still the same  
On a cold winter's night you will find me

Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry  
Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry  
Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry  
Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry

As Ciaran took a bow Sherlock did something he had never done before. He joined the crowd in applauding Ciaran’s performance. As much as the detective enjoyed it, he would rather not have Ciaran sing that particular song again. Not if it made him think sadly of home.  
Sherlock sighed and drained his glass of water before heading for the doors. He had seen his suspect leaving only a few second before and wanted to catch up with him before Ciaran saw him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song 'Back Home In Derry' happens to be one of my favorites of the band 'Hair of the Dog' they're an Irish band and they're awesome. Feel free to look them up on youtube... But you might want to type in 'hair of the dog irish band' or you will get a million hits for hair of the dog by Nazarith


	9. Whatever Comes Out of My Head is More Than Likely Brains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciaran annoying Sherlock via Text messages...yay autocorrect!

Chapter Nine: whatever comes out of my head is more than likely brains

Sherlock didn’t see Ciaran for another two weeks after the bar visit. He wasn’t avoiding the man at all he was just busy. But luck would be on his side as on Thursday morning he received a text from Ciaran. 

Hey Sherlock Sorry I haven’t been in touch but I’ve been really swamped at work lately 0_o  
JB

Sherlock stared at the text frowning a moment before answering.

As have I. What is that face for? What does it mean? And who is JB?  
SH

Bond James Bond Sherly. And it’s an emoticon.   
JB

I don’t think I like it. and don’t call me Sherly  
SH

Then don’t use them XD… and as for not calling you Sherly…i’m just going to let you have that one for free. X)  
JB

Now you’re doing it on porpoise   
SH

IM DOING IT ON PORPOISE??? OMFG THAT WOULD BE AWESOME!!!!  
XD  
JB

Sherlock frowned at his phone and ignored whatever venom Anderson was spewing out. He then read back what he had sent and mentally slapped himself.

It was autocorrected for some reason my phone likes to flip words around every once in a while. And I’m going to ignore the OMFG.  
SH

Can’t hear you I’m on my porpoise…he’s name is squeekers and he likes me :D we’re going to Atlantis!  
CTAN

Enough and what is CTAN?  
SH

Ciaran the Aqua Ninja and fine be like that XP  
CTAN

Do you generally say whatever comes out of your head?  
SH

Whatever comes out of my head is more than likely brains  
CMA

I can’t fault that logic  
SH

Oh do you want to do dinner Saturday? My treat.  
CMA

Indian?  
SH

You know I can make curry if you want it  
CMA

And now your never leaving  
SH

Ooooo am I going to be chained up in your basement? Or to the stove?  
CMA

The stove… If your good I might leave the chain long enough so that you can sit on the couch  
SH

Which is very important for the cuddling during movies  
CMA

True that would be missed...I like that part even though the movies are horrible  
SH

I like it too ;D  
and I'm ignoring the comment on the movie choice.  
CMA

I don’t know what that face is  
SH

It’s a giant smile that’s winking  
CMA

Oh  
SH

So you pick the movie (cause you don't like the ones I pick out apparently)  
and I’ll cook curry on Saturday?  
CMA

I like that plan  
SH

Me too I’ll talk to you later someone is currently trying to strangle my bouncer with a lime  
CMA

You have all the fun see you Saturday  
SH

~~--~~  
The next day he started cleaning the Kitchen. If Ciaran was going to cook then he needn’t be put off by all the experiments going on. Especially the experiment he had going on about salmonella in pig fetuses.

It took Six hours (over the course of two days because let’s face it, he is Sherlock) to get the kitchen looking like a kitchen rather than a laboratory.   
~~--~~  
Ciaran showed up at the flat at six thirty with a bright smile and an armload of groceries.   
“I hope Katsu Curry is to your liking I’m afraid I couldn’t find any cardamom anywhere so the choices were kind of limiting.”  
“Katsu curry is fine, here come in.” Sherlock said with a shy smile and let him into the flat. “Oh that’s good then. Alright I should probably get started because it takes FOREVER to cook.” He smiled yet again.  
~~--~~  
Sherlock watched as Ciaran expertly sliced up carrots, celery and grated an apple and ginger for the sauce. “Your very good with knives.” He said absentmindedly then frowned as Ciaran stiffened ever so slightly. “Oh yea I spent loads of time around them so getting to know how to handle one was second nature.” He turned and smiled at the detective who gave a shy smile back.   
“But if you’re bored then you can help cut up the pork.”   
~~--~~  
Soon Sherlock had the pork cut up into strips, one of the pans looked as though it had some kind of paste in it and there was some vegetable stock simmering in another pot. “What is that?” he asked pointing to the paste making Ciaran laugh.  
“That, my fine fellow is what we call the roux. It’s basically condensed flavoring. So I don’t recommend putting it into your mouth.” Ciaran said as Sherlock did just that.   
After washing his mouth out (it had been VERY strong) he watched as Ciaran spooned some into the pot and carefully sampled it before adding more. “Alright now we need to make some rice, fry the pork and let this boil down a bit.” He said with a smile that make Sherlock’s heart go Thu-Thump.  
~~--~~  
Later when they had their plates made up they curled up on the couch to eat and watch the movie that Sherlock picked out.   
“What are we watching?”  
“The secret life of bees.”  
~~--~~  
Fifteen minutes later  
“Alright so we are going to start to read the back of movies before we rent them.” Ciaran laughed as Sherlock shut off the movie. “Cause you rented a chick flick.”   
“I thought it was about bees…”  
“I know dear-heart. Did you get a back up one?”  
Sherlock shook his head disparagingly then sighed as Ciaran pulled him forward back onto the couch. “That’s alright dear-heart…want to try the movie channel or do you want us to go out and pick one?” he asked as he made the detective look at him.   
“Lets try the movie channel.”  
~~--~~  
Sherlock didn’t know what to do. They had found the seven samurai on the movie channel and now Ciaran was asleep curled up on the couch.  
Scratch that, Ciaran was asleep curled up on him.   
He didn’t want to move in case Ciaran woke up. If Ciaran woke up then he would go home. If Ciaran went home he wouldn’t be here…So it was in Sherlock’s best interest if Ciaran didn’t wake up.  
So moving extremely carefully he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch to cover them both, then he settled down to sleep with his little Irishman in his arms.   
The last thought that went through his head before he to fell asleep was very simple and very forthright. It was ‘I like this.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can make Katsu Curry but it takes FOREVER to do (if I feel like doing it correctly) and the curry roux (its the paste) is VERY strong...I persuaded my sister to try it...the result was HILARIOUS!


	10. Ignoring The Possible Zombie Outbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> survived friday the thirteenth working the overnight, during a full moon and it was dark and foggy out...AND NO ZOMBIE APOCOLYPSE!!!!! High fives for all!

Chapter 10: ignoring the possible zombie outbreak

Sherlock woke up slowly to find himself slightly pinned to the couch by a warm weight. His brow furrowed as he tried to deduce what was on top of him. It’s warm, covers quite a bit of me, heavier than a comforter…and moving…CIARAN! He thought quickly before jolting a bit which startled Ciaran.   
“MMnne…what?” He grumbled before lifting his head to glare at Sherlock. “No.” was all he said then burrowed back into his Sherlock-pillow making him laugh.  
Ciaran was obviously not a morning person.  
But Sherlock didn’t mind. This meant that he could spend more time cuddling with the Irishman.  
~~__~~  
It was around noon when the two men started to rouse themselves from sleep. “Tea?” Sherlock asked as he went to go make a pot. “Please…”  
Both men sat across from each other and drank their tea…it was a little awkward. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” Ciaran mumbled making Sherlock blush. “That’s alright I didn’t really mind…itwasactuallyquitenice” Sherlock said in a hurry making Ciaran blush a little.  
“I…wouldn’t be opposed to…doing it again…soon…” Sherlock stuttered then occupied his hands with the tea cup.   
“Same here…you’re actually quite comfortable…” Ciaran mumbled then blushed again.   
Thankfully the men were spared further embarrassment by Sherlock’s phone ringing. “Sherlock Holmes…Yes…No…Alright address? I keep telling you I’m not psychic…”  
“Unfortunately I have to go make yourself at home…” Sherlock babbled as he ran to get dressed.   
“Hey Sherlock?” Ciaran called once the detective had finished dressing and was spiraling around looking for everything. “Yes?”   
“I had a really great time last night.” Ciaran said then leaned in to press his lips against Sherlocks. “I’ll talk to you later and thank you for the tea.”   
With that Ciaran was out the door leaving a shocked Sherlock standing in the kitchen with one hand raised to his lips.   
Ciaran kissed me!  
~~__~~  
Ciaran almost ran out of the flat after the kiss. He didn’t want to be too forward with Sherlock and honestly didn’t know if he would want to be romantically entwined with him. Sherlock did say that he would but so far hasn’t made any moves on him.   
This would take a lot of thinking over...  
~~__~~  
Over the next few days both men would ponder on their relationship and worry about what the other person thought about the kiss and then agonize over whether or not the other person had liked it.   
Finally Sherlock had had enough and simply picked up his phone to text Ciaran his would-be-boyfriend.  
Hello  
SH

HI  
CMA

Are you busy?  
SH

Not really. Why what’s up?  
CMA

Nothing I just wanted to see if you were free for dinner tonight  
SH

Tonight?  
CMA

Yes  
SH

It’s not Saturday…  
CMA

No it’s Wednesday  
SH

Just checked my sexual and ignoring the possible zombie outbreak I am definitely free :)  
CMA

Sexual? How do you check your sexual?  
SH

…schedule…my sexual has no need to be checked…  
CMA

That does not answer my question  
SH

Not really sure how to check it… I’ll just have to kiss you again to make sure.   
CMA

Sherlock closed his eyes at that and ignored his sudden dry mouth and excitement over Ciaran kissing him. “You alright there freak?” Anderson’s voice cut through the fog lacing his head.   
Giving him a glare he turned back to his phone which dinged in his hand. 

If it bothers you I wont  
CMA

The only thing that bothers me is the idiots I have to work with   
SH

I am more than willing to help you check  
SH

Alright your place or mine?  
CMA

Yours is an option?  
SH

…yes…why wouldn’t it be?  
CMA

Where should I meet you?  
SH

Sherlock smiled at the address currently residing on his phone before telling Ciaran that he would meet him there at seven.   
Then he turned back to the crime scene and proceeded to verbally eviscerate the idiot they call Anderson.   
Then again, he was under the impression that idiots did not deserve names.  
~~__~~  
Ciaran, on the other hand, was currently (and literally) jumping for joy behind the bar.   
“of! Whatcha doin tha’ fer?” Asked Angus the Scotsman he worked with who had come up behind him and tried to keep his friends feet on the floor. “Oh I have a date with a tall svelt thing at seven.”  
“I knew ye were gay but datin’ things now are ye?” He laughed then dodged the towel that Ciaran snapped at his legs.   
“hald yer whisht and off with ye!” he mimicked Angus’s brogue making him laugh.  
“Aye ye leetle mon. Careful yer mon doonit step on ye though…” He said then took off running making Ciaran laugh.   
~~__~~


	11. My Fridge Ate my Groceries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciarans fridge ate his groceries....

Thank you all to who have followed and/or (hopefully and) commented on this story!  
~~__~~

Chapter 11: my fridge has eaten my groceries

 

Ciaran sped home as fast as possible on his bike and proceeded to clean whatever was dirty. Then he took a look in his fridge and sighed before tapping his head on the door. "Alright take out it is…" he said then banged his head on the door as he jumped when his phone went off.

"Crap it's not seven already is it?!" he panicked then grabbed for his phone to find that no it wasn't seven o'clock it was almost seven thirty.

"CRAP!" he shouted then ran out the door to go find Sherlock who (hopefully) hasn't left.

~~__~~

Sherlock arrived at address at a quarter till seven and had been waiting patiently (well patiently for him anyway) and by the time seven twenty rolled around he was a little bit miffed. He whipped out his mobile and started to type out a text.

Where are you?

SH

~~__~~

"SHERLOCK! I'm here!" Ciaran shouted as he ran up to Sherlock to bed in half and pant. "Sorry…was caught…at work…didn't mean…to be late…" He gasped making Sherlock smiled as he put his mobile away, text unsent.

"That's understandable." Sherlock said as he helped Ciaran to his feet. "Come on my place is this way."

"Why not just give me your address?"

"It's complicated to get to. It's one of those places where you have to know where it is to find it." Ciaran laughed then his heart skipped a beat as he felt Sherlock's hand slip into his to grasp his fingers.

He looked over to see that while Sherlock was making a point of not looking at him he was also blushing a little.

It was at that point that Ciaran made a mental note that Sherlock was cute.

~~__~~

Soon Sherlock was seated on an over large red (very very red) couch sipping tea out of a coffee mug and taking in the surroundings.

Ciarans flat was small and Spartan. He had a few books lying around as well as a laptop on the desk. His furniture was extremely mismatched and there was a single easel with some paints in the corner.

He obviously hasn't lived in the flat very long.

"So what would you like for dinner? Unfortunately my fridge has eaten my groceries so it'll have to be take out or a resturaunt, unless you want to come to Tesco's." Ciaran said as he sat next to Sherlock who thought it over.

The offer to go to Tesco's obviously means he isn't embarrassed to be seen with me in public…Sherlock thought then gave a nod. "Alright lets go to Tesco's…"

~~__~~

Ciaran and Sherlock walked up and down Tesco's aisles and started the hunt for food.

Soon all Sherlock wanted to do was just walk away as Ciaran suddenly remembered yet another thing he needed and took off like a bullet, dodging in and out of people only to be back not even ten seconds later with an item in hand.

"Ciaran?"

"Yes Sherlock?"

"What exactly are we making?"

"No idea, what do you want to eat and if you say curry…"

"What happens if I say curry?"

Ciaran just gave him a look. Sherlock didn't know what this look meant but he wasn't going to take the chance of it being a bad look, so he just ignored the fact that he said anything at all and continued down the aisle and into the dairy.

"Why are there so many flavors?" He asked as he pulled a container out to examine it. "This one is blue…did it go bad?"

Ciaran smiled fondly and grabbed the container. "That's blueberry milk Sherlock…"

"They made milk out of blueberries?" His eyebrow went up and he tipped his head in confusion.

"No its just milk with blueberry flavoring in it."

"Ah."

~~__~~

"And this one?"

"Caramel."

"This one?"

"Vanilla."

"What about…"

"Sherlock…stop it says what type of flavoring it has in it on the bottle…" Ciaran groaned and pressed his forehead against the bar of the carriage, Sherlock had been asking about the flavoring on just about every package they had passed.

Sherlock knew that he was getting on Ciarans nerves. He couldn't help it really he just wanted to KNOW. "I'm sorry…I've never seen all these flavors before…" Sherlock sighed and pressed himself to Ciarans back in a hugging motion. (He had seen people do this before and the huggie seemed to enjoy it)

"No that's alright Sherlock, I'm sorry for snapping at you…" The Irishman replied as he leaned back into the body that hugged him from behind.

"STOP THAT There are kids here!" came a VERY angry voice from the other end of the aisle.

Ciaran and Sherlock looked up to find a very large, and disgruntled, man walking towards them. "We cannot have you parading yourselves around here like that. There are children here and you will give them a bad example."

The voice didn't come from the large man but rather the small man behind him.

(To his credit the larger man walked to the end of the aisle and stood there waiting to see if he needed to intervene. He had a brother who was…well he wasn't strictly heterosexual and knew that some people just needed to be high-fived…in the face…with a chair.)

"Excuse me?"  
"You heard me. Now we may have to cater to your kind but we do not have to stand here and watch you flaunt your sins in a store." The small man snarled in disgust as he pressed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Ciaran stared at the little man with an unidentified look on his face. Sherlock watched him, wondering what his almost lover would do. Would he get offended at the man? Would he be embarrassed to be seen with him?

"Alright then we'll just pay and leave." Sherlock tried to save Ciaran some face but he would have none of it.

"No Sherlock, we won't. Exactly who are you?"

The little man drew himself up and stuck out what little chest he had. "I am the manager of this Tesco's and-"

"Ah I see. Our money is just as green as everyone else's but when it comes down to it you'd rather hassle us than the couple an aisle over playing grab ass." Ciarans violet eyes sparked in anger making him look like a demon come to torment the man. "Tell you what Christopher we'll see how long you can keep up this prejudiced act of yours when you have no business."

Christopher drew himself up even higher (about an inch to be honest, he was now standing on his tippy toes to look Ciaran in the nose.) "We don't need your business here. Your kind carries diseases and perpetuate ungodliness. Face it you're going to hell if you don't redeem your immortal soul. And you will burn for it."

Ciaran tipped his head to the side and gave him a cocky grin. "Soul? Oh that thing. I sold it years ago. And by the way little preacher man. I'm the head bartender down at Angels Weep, you know that little bar down in fifth ward? Well guess who's going to start a boycott until your ass gets fired for homophobia. Cheers."

~~__~~

"I HATE people like that. And what the hell is with that word anyhow? Homophobia, it's stupid! It translates to fear of homosexuals. But they aren't afraid, they're just assholes! GAH!" Ciaran ranted as they left the store.

Sherlock was amazed at the little Irishman he was currently following down the sidewalk.

Suddenly Ciaran came to a dead stop and turned to Sherlock with a pale face. "Oh god, I really hope I didn't offend you when I did that…I just outed you and-Mmf."

The rest of his speech was muffled by Sherlock lifted his face to press their lips together.

"Come on, you owe me dinner." Sherlock smiled down at Ciarans slightly glassy eyes then walked away.

~~__~~

I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hate the word homophobe…that line 'they aren't scared their just assholes' I've used a great many times…cause its just STUPID!
> 
> Btw if that offends you…I think you're in the wrong fanfiction…
> 
> But anyways that's my entire theory as to why Sherlock refuses to go to Tesco's...he's still boycotting it...
> 
> And before you ask NO i don't know of any boycott against that grocery store...it's entirely made up and that's the only british store i know cause i'm not british...
> 
> Hearts and Bunnies to all!


	12. YES THAT WAS MY FINAL ANSWER AND NO I DON'T WANT TO PHONE A FRIEND!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of fluffiness to hold you guys over I'm still working on the actual...you know plot thing...

 

Ciaran spent the rest of the night either cooking or curled up beside Sherlock wrapped around his arm. He was a cuddler he couldn't help it.

But Sherlock did not seem to mind at all as he leaned back into the small Irishman and cuddled just as hard.

Soon they weren't sitting on the couch so much as laying on it…or rather Sherlock was laying on the couch and Ciaran was laying on him while they were watching a random documentary on penguins.

Soon Ciaran was asleep on top of him and Sherlock was falling asleep as well. Something about the man's voice was very soothing.

"Sherlock…Sherlock…Sherlock…Sherlock."

Sherlock woke up to Ciaran whispering his name and poking him in the cheek.

"Hey I have to go into work… you're welcome to stay but I have to go." Ciaran said and pressed his lips to his cheek.

"mmmfm."

Sherlock promptly rolled over and went back to sleep.

"Ciaran?" Sherlock called out as he wandered through the apartment with a frown. Suddenly he remembered that Ciaran had to go to work and told him that he could stay until he got home.

Sherlock ended up sitting on the couch watching crap telly and was still there when Ciaran got back from the bar.

"Oh you did stay."

"I vaguely remember you telling me that I could and was going to text you to ask if I could but then my phone died and I haven't memorized your number yet so I waited around to ask you if it was all right."

Ciaran grinned at his boyfriend before walking forward to kiss him. "You are adorable did you know that?"

"No I'm not."

"Sherlock, you stayed here to ask me if it was alright if you could stay."

"Ah…"

"Adorable…"

"I did order some take out for you though so if you're hungry."

"Thank you I'm actually starving, did you eat?"

"Yes I did."

"Alright then."

An hour after Ciaran ate they were back on the couch watching telly.

"I have a suggestion…"

"And the suggestion would be?"

"I have a telly in the bedroom and it might be more comfortable…no funny business I promise…it's just…you're friggin tall and I know it can't be comfortable sleeping on a couch that I barely fit on and you're like a foot taller than me, so I thought it would be more comfortable to lie all the way down. That is if you wish to spend the night that is…i'm not trying to assume anything and-"

Sherlock cut off the Irishman's rant by covering his mouth with his own in a chaste kiss. "I know what you are trying to say and I would very much like to fall asleep with you again."

 

THE NEXT MORNING

 

"What the hell is that?" Sherlock asked as he was woken my the sound of a bomb going off.

"That would be my phone…I have to take this I'll be right back…just go back to being a comfy pillow." Ciaran smiled tensely as he ran out of the room with the phone and all Sherlock could hear was his side of the conversation

"Hello…yea…well I just…no I'm…I said no…because you have Mihail to…I know he's not…but I already told you…YES THAT WAS MY FINAL ANSWER AND NO I DON'T WANT TO PHONE A FRIEND…Alright then…I'll see you later then…No and by asshole.."

Sherlock was looking at him oddly as Ciaran put the phone back down _alright I have to admit that was a bit on the suspicious side_. "Ever have a brother that you just love to hate?" He tried to grin but came off as wincing.

"Yes I have one of those."

"Think they joined a class? How to Annoy Your Siblings 101?" Ciaran said making Sherlock laugh.

"Probably now come back here, I'm still a comfy pillow, after all you did tell me to be."

Ciaran crawled back onto the bed to rest his head on Sherlocks shoulders. "Lets never let our brothers meet…it might mean the end of the world…"

"True, true now go to sleep.

"mkay."

 

~~__~~

 

Life was good at the moment and he was loath to get up and greet the world.

And from the sounds that Sherlock was making, someone else was reluctant to wake up as well.

"No."

"I agree."

"Wish we could just stay here all day."

"Yea well if wishes were horses…"

"Continue."

Ciaran lifted his head up to look the detective in the eye. "If wishes were horses then beggars would ride. Have you never heard that before?"

"If I had I deleted it."

Ciaran frowned at Sherlock making him blush. "My brain is like a hard drive, I can go in and delete useless information if needed."

Ciaran stared at Sherlock for a minute until he started to shuffle his feet. "That's actually pretty awesome!" He smiled brightly at the detective making him blush again, but for a different reason this time.

Soon they had to leave and get back to the real world. Ciaran needed to get to his kiosk and Lestrade had been blowing up Sherlocks phone about a triple murder.

Sherlock and Ciaran remained busy for almost two weeks. The triple murder turned into a serial killer and Ciaran had to go and do a small art show in Borehamwood. So everything worked out in the fact that while one of them were to be busy so would the other.

Sherlock solved many cases in those two weeks and when Ciaran came back from Borehamwood he had a small surprise waiting for the man.

Sherlock had set up a small intimate dinner for the two of them in the Irishman's flat.

His hopes were that they would take a step forward in their relationship.

He would not be disappointed.

00_00

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bunch of owls is called a who…and baby owls disguise themselves as Muppets to avoid predators…


	13. i got into a fight...i won though

CHAPTER MAINLY SMUT...SMUT WILL BE MARKED

Sherlock sat at the dinner table and waited for the Irishman to walk in.

He would never admit it but he did in fact jump when the door opened and Ciaran stumbled into the flat. "Oh hey Sherlock...What's all this?"

Sherlock felt a little queasy at the question and fought not to press a hand to his stomach. "I thought it would be a nice surprise when you got back..."

Ciaran smiled sweetly at his tall boyfriend and gave a small laugh. "And it is definitely a nice surprise Sherlock." He murmured and pressed his lips to Sherlocks in a chaste kiss. "Now let's eat."

After dinner Ciaran and Sherlock curled up on Ciaran's couch watching a movie.

Sherlock did not know why but they usually ended up like this. And he really liked it.

He liked it when he was stretched out over Ciarans couch with the Irishman draped over him.

He liked it when Ciaran snuggled just a little bit harder into him, pressing them together like a mould.

But lately it seemed that it was not enough for him, like he was missing something that he did not know he was missing.

"Ciaran..."

"Yes Sherlock?"

"I was wondering..."

Ciaran lifted his head up to eye the detective. "Well do not keep me in suspense...what is it you were wondering?"

"Well I was...It's about our relationship..."

Ciaran pulled himself up at that and sat back on his heels. "What about our relationship?" he asked nervously watching his boyfriends face for any indication that this thing between them was over for Sherlock.

"Our relationship...I would very much...that is if you are willing...to...I would very much like to take it to the next level..."

Ciaran let out a relieved sigh with a small laugh. "You had me worried there for a second Sherlock...I would very much like it as well...But..."

Sherlock frowned and reached out to wrap his arms around Ciaran only to pull back at his pained gasp. "What hurts?"

Ciaran sighed and lifted his arms gingerly to pull his shirt off, making Sherlock blush before expelling a gasp of horror. "Oh Ciaran...what happened?"

Ciaran's chest was COVERED in bruises and from the looks of it, several of his ribs were bruised as well, if not fractured. The bruises spread from his chest to wrap around his back in a splatter of purple and yellow.

"I got into a fight...I won though." Ciaran remarked then gently slapped Sherlocks hand as he reached over to poke at his ribs. "Ciaran..."

"Don't worry...there are other things that we can do..." Ciaran grinned at Sherlock making him blush.

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUTTY SMUT SMUT

The kiss started out slow and sweet but soon grew heated and desperate. Sherlock moaned as Ciaran devoured his mouth, growling as h did so in kind. "nnn...Bedroom...Now." Sherlock growled as he

gently picked his little Irishman up and allowed him to wrap his long legs around his hips. "Now that is a great idea."

Ciaran felt Sherlock dip him gently and gave a sigh as he felt the soft mattress at his back. "Clothes...off PLEASE" Ciaran begged as Sherlock kissed a line down his neck to suck at the juncture between his

neck and his shoulder.

Sherlock quickly stripped off Ciarans trousers and pants then growled when Ciaran did the same for him. He did not like being interrupted for anything, especially since there was now a lot of naked skin beneath him and he was VERY eager to explore it.

Ciaran lay beneath the detective and moaned as he began to kiss and suck on his skin being mindful of the bruises that adorned him.

Soon he was at his wits end and lifted himself up to push the detective over, rolling him onto his back and groaning as he sat on top of his boyfriend, ignoring the ache in his ribs that the movement had given him. "You, me dear, are sooch a tease." he whispered, his accent growing thicker as he started to rock against Sherlock, grinding them together.

Sherlock groaned and wrapped his hands around Ciarans hips gasping as he ground up while Ciaran ground down. "Crap where's the lube?" He growled and almost snarled when Ciaran shifted to rummage through the nightstand to withdraw a small tube.

"Gimme." Sherlock growled as he rolled them over again to cover his hand with the lube then wrap both of their straining erections with one hand and began to stroke, making them both pant in ecstasy .

It seemed all too soon when Ciaran released himself onto his stomach with Sherlock doing the same only seconds later.

END OF SMUTTINESS

Hmmm..." Ciaran sighed as he stretched as much as he dared before pushing the limp detective off of him and getting up to get a damp towel.

"HEY!" Came the muffled protest of the detective who currently had his face buried into the pillow.

"Oh relax I just wanted to wash this off before it became...sticky." Ciaran said with a wince. He could stand being covered in many things as long as it was not sticky, he hated the feeling. "Now budge up."

Sherlock gave a cocky grin at his lover. "Why should I?" he joked making Ciaran laugh. "My bed by rules." He smiled and moved to curl up with his detective.

Soon they were both asleep curled up tightly with Ciaran's head pillowed on Sherlocks chest, the ache in his ribs forgotten for at least a little while.

It seemed all too soon that they had to wake up and go back to the normal world, something that the two lovers did not wish to do, at least not yet.


	14. Cuteness Is A Self-Defense Mechanism.

Sherlock woke feeling very light and extremely comfortable. Which was odd, at least for him anyways. He looked down to see that he was wrapped around Ciaran who was curled up in his arms with his cheek pressed against his chest and an arm thrown around his waist. Sherlock was starting to think that Ciaran's cuteness is a self-defense mechanism.  
He was just about to stroke a finger down his lovers cheek when Ciaran's phone went off with a very strange rhythmic sound that made the Irishman jolt upright. "Crap...what do they want now?!" He whined as he reached over to grab the offending device. "What? Yes I'm home...No...not just no but HELL NO! No DAMN IT D! No I have shit to do today...You're an ass you know that?" He grumbled as he leaned back to drape himself over Sherlock to mouth 'sorry' to his lover who only shrugged. "No D I'm not going to go all the way back to Ireland just for half an hour...Nope not going to happen...Well talk to him about it then...Just...I'll talk to you later...Yea bye." Ciaran tossed his phone into the chair in the corner of the room, rolled over to bury himself in Sherlock's chest and grumbled. "I take it that was the brother?"  
"Cousin actually...More annoying then the brother...Damian has always been a pain in the neck..." he muttered and curled up a little harder into Sherlock making him smile. He's using me for comfort...  
"What time do you have to work today?" The detective asked as he pulled the smaller man farther up his chest trying to be mindful of his ribs. "Blegh work... Today I work from five to close..." He grumbled then sat up to straddle his lovers waist. "Why?"  
"Wanted to know, now come back down here."  
"No."  
"No?"  
"No. Make me." He smirked then laughed as Sherlock rolled to pin him to the bed. "Hmm...I think I like you like this..." Sherlock muttered as he lowered himself down to press their lips together. Before anything could progress Ciarans alarm went off, effectively stopping the progression and Sherlock rolled off with a groan. "Wow we keep getting cock-blocked by technology." Ciaran muttered and pressed his face into the pillow. "True." Was all Sherlock said as he rolled over to use Ciarans back as a pillow then lifted himself off the bed to stand beside his lover in all his naked glory. "Alright I want something to eat..." "Foods in the fridge...you've been here more than once AND spent the night...you're no longer a guest." Ciaran's voice was muffled as he spoke into his pillow then laughed when Sherlock ran a finger up the instep of his foot. "If I'm cooking breakfast I'm not serving you in bed."  
Ciaran sat up with a pout at that. "I think you served me VERY well last night." He grinned up at his lover who only gave him a dry look. "Alright fine...but is this isn't going to be a naked breakfast...unfortunately it's too cold for that."  
~~_~~ They had just started eating breakfast when a knock came from the door. "What the hell." Ciaran muttered and went over to open the door only to get pushed back by a very large black dog. "Damn it Fionn!" he shouted and before he could grab the dog, Fionn had his forelegs on Sherlock's knee and eyeing his face. "FIONN DOWN!" Ciaran shouted making the dog get down. "What the hell?" Ciaran growled at the man who filled the doorway. "Hey Ci...Umm I'm going to guess that D didn't tell you about this...and your agreement was not actually real..."  
"No I haven't heard anything about this...Why is Finn here?"  
"I have to go to Costa Rica for a thing and D said that you said that you would take him for a while...mainly because he only listens to you...why do I have him again?"  
Ciaran rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Because I can't keep a dog here..."  
"Oh that's right. Now for my other question, who's the man having a staring contest with Fionn?"  
Ciaran turned around to find Sherlock eyeing the dog with mistrust and Finnebar inching towards him. "That's my boyfriend Sherlock...Sherlock that's my dog Finnebar...he wants your bacon."  
"Hello boyfriend I'm the brother." He smiled and walked over to shake Sherlocks hand. "Sorry I can't stay long but I have a flight to catch in a few minutes...so bye and have fun!" "Wait what about-?!" Ciaran tried to call after him but he was already gone, leaving him with the dog and Sherlock. "Was that the sibling you love to hate?" Sherlock inquired as Ciaran ambled over to drape himself across his shoulders. "No that was my twin. D's the one I love to hate...He's a bit...well..." Ciaran trailed off as he maneuvered himself to straddle Sherlock's lap. "Ah...So you have multiple siblings?" "I'm the oldest of five. That was my younger twin, then there's Darius also known as D, Caoilainn who's a sweetheart...she cooks. Arden is her twin he's a painter then there is little Jarlath who's a teacher." Ciaran answered as he curled up in his lovers lap. "Ah, I only have Mycroft and Sherrinford. What is your twins name?" Sherlock asked as he moved his hands from Ciaran's waist to his thighs to gently stroke the fabric there. "Coinneach his name but we call him Cionn for short..." He said on a laugh when he realized that he didn't tell Sherlock his twins name, that and the fact that Sherlock just found one of his ticklish spots. "Alright I give!" he laughed and reached up to pull Sherlock's half naked form on top of him. "Give what?"  
"No idea." He smiled up at the detective, his violet eyes sparkling in the light. Sherlock saw the smile, saw the look in his eyes and just had to kiss him. Then pulled away when Fionn started growling as he came into the room to find an unknown person on top of his master. "Fionn! SUI!" Ciaran barked and the dog sat down looking ashamed. "I don't think he likes me..."  
"He doesn't like anyone invading my personal space...He's odd like that."  
Sherlock smiled as he kissed Ciaran gently on the lips then grabbed the Irishman's hand, pulling him to his feet. "Want me to bring dinner tonight?"  
"Mmm please. I usually have the nachos that they make me. Good the first time but not the twentieth."  
"It's a date then. ~_~~ ~_~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciations! and meanings!  
> Ciaran- "Keer+Awn or Keer+in" Means Little dark one Caoilainn- "Kay-Linn" caol means 'slender' fionn means 'white fair pure'  
> Jarlath- "Jar-Lath" was noted for his piety and his ability as a teacher Coinneach- "ko+in+ock" means 'attractive person'  
> Fionn- 'Fin" means fair-headed


	15. Child Wearing Their Parents Clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright people some of you have messaged me and said that you missed the plot bunny trails. So here's a list and if you can figure it out then drop me a message or a comment is married but doesn't want Mycroft to know 2. Did some work for his family threatens Sally and John notices something 'off' about him on neck; family thing and very personal up instantly alert 6."The only one smart and fast enough to catch him"  
> 't shy away at the threat of violence is left sparce call from brother;  
> 10\. Injuries; got into a fight 11. Brother drops off dog stating that he 'has to go to Costa Rica for a thing'  
> And if you don't get the plot bunny tracks in this chapter...well there is no hope for you...sorry

The next few weeks Sherlock was very busy with multiple cases and Ciaran had to go back to Ireland for a week to 'do a family thing' that was extremely important. Sherlock asked but had recieved the run around. "So what is this family thing?"  
"Oh just something my father is doing. He's pulling the family togther for this meeting type thing." Ciaran smiled as he pulled some clothes into a suitcase and patted Fionn on the head. "That is very vague." Sherlock muttered as he walked over to pull the Irishman back against him. "Well I'd tell you but then I'd have to kill you...and I quite like having you around." Ciaran smiled and leaned back against the detective. "I'll see you next week I promise." Sherlock growled and released him, knowing that he would not get an answer out of the man. ``-``-``-``-``-``-`` Sherlock growled as he prowled his appartment. He hated the fact that Ciaran was away and not able to be there to curl up with, especially because of the rain. What made it even worse was that Ciaran was three days late in coming back from Ireland.  
"Hello? Sherlock you have a visitor!" Mrs. Hudson called up just before there was a knock on the door. Sherlock opened the door to find Coinneach on the threshold, arm raised to give the door another knock. "Hi sorry we've met before I'm-"  
"Ciaran's brother Coinneach. What can I do for you?"  
"Ah...Well I was hoping that you could tell me if you have seen my brother in the last oh three days or so?" Coinneach asked eyeing Sherlock who looked a little concerned. "I have not seen Ciaran since he left for the family meeting thing that he had to go to...Is he missing?" Sherlock asked eyeing the Irishman who huffed out an annoyed breath. "Don't worry it's probably nothing to worry about. He'll be back soon, he probably just ran off to lick his wounds after the meeting."  
Sherlock's eyes narrowed at that. "Why would he need to do that?"  
"Well father...Never mind you aren't supposed to know. So I'm not going to tell you. Anyways if Ciaran shows up have him call me...And you can watch Fionn for him...he seems to like you." Coinneach replied as he reached back to grab the large black hound by the collar and pull him into the flat. "So here's his food dish some food for the next few days and his leash. That's about all you need. Oh and he only listens to commands in Gaelic so good luck with that. Have fun!" Sherlock was too shocked to do anything as the grinning Irishman waved as he left the flat, leaving him alone with the large dog who immediately started to lean against his leg. "What. The. Hell."

(0_0)

It took two days for Ciaran to show up at his flat drenched from the rain. "Ciaran!"  
"I'm sorry Sherlock I just had to think some things out... What is Fionn doing here?" The drenched Irishman asked as his dog ran over to start licking the water off his arms. "Coinneach showed up to ask if I had seen you. He then dropped the dog off with the instructions that you need to call him. Is everything all right?" Sherlock asked showing uncharacteristic concern. "Yes..well no not really. Everything is up in the air at the moment and...I just don't know what my next move is. And I hate it when that happens." Sherlock took a second to really look at his lover through new eyes and didn't like what he saw.  
Where his Ciaran was bold and bright, this one was tired and withdrawn with dark circles under his eyes. His eyes which used to dance and be so full of life, contained shadows of worry and flickers of sadness. He was a shell of his former self and something had happened while he was away to make him like this. Sherlock did not like this at all. But he knew not to press the issue so he gently pulled his lovers fingers from the dogs fur and pulled him into the bathroom. "Here have a nice hot shower and I'll get some dry clothes for you to wear."  
Ciaran tried to smile at his lover but it didn't reach his eyes even as he leaned in to press his lips to Sherlock's chin in thanks before climbing into the shower.  
~_~ "I feel like a child wearing their parents clothes." Ciaran sighed as he walked out of the bathroom wearing the clothes that Sherlock brought him. Sherlock took one look and struggled not to laugh.  
Ciaran stood in the threshold of the bathroom wearing Sherlocks sweat pants and long sleeve shirt. The hem of the pants drapped over his feet while the sleeves of the shirt dangled a good three inches past his finger tips. "Don't even."  
"I didn't say anything."  
"You were going too." Ciaran tried to joke but the smile did not reach his eyes yet again, but he did let himself be pulled onto the couch for a cuddle, soon falling asleep against his lover with his dog pressed against his legs. It felt like home.  
~_~ "Ciaran...I have to ask...what happened at the meeting to make you so sad?" Sherlock finally got the courage to ask two days later when Ciaran seemed to be getting a little happier. Ciaran looked up from his painting with wide eyes making Sherlock regret his question. "I-...My father wishes that I follow in his footsteps. He made an announcement that I am to do just that and the choice was taken away from me." He whispered as he stroked his brush through the paint absentmindedly. Sherlock sighed and walked over to gently grasp his lovers hands. "Anything you need I will be more than glad to help with. I know how overbearing fathers can be." He whispered and pressed the backs of Ciarans hands to his face, wishing to help ease some of the tension building in the small man. "I know you wish to help but this is the one thing that you cannot, no matter how I wish it were otherwise." Ciaran whispered as he moved to embrace the detective.

(0_0)


	16. I Wish You Happiness

Sherlock spent the next few days just following Ciaran around, mainly getting under his feet. "Sherlock I'm not going to just disappear on you. Besides it won't happen for a few years yet." Ciaran finally confronted the edgy detective in his flat one night as they were watching a movie. Sherlock sighed and squeezed the man laying against his chest. He knew that Ciaran wouldn't just disappear from his life but he couldn't shake the fear that he would do just that. After all, People in Sherlock's life had a bad habit of disappearing. Sometimes with harsh words being spoken before they left.

After a few weeks Sherlock had finally settled down. Well he finally came to the realization that Ciaran was not going to up and disappear from his life. Which made him very happy.

But Ciaran was very good at not letting his concern show. He was the eldest of his siblings so he had a lot of experiance in doing so.

He had been given an ultimatium. And if he chose wrong his father will carry out his threat. Which bode ill for everyone, Sherlock especially. He didn't know what to do. He only had a week to choose. And either choice will harm Sherlock.  
The question on his mind at the moment was how much would he hurt Sherlock. A week to decide his and Sherlock's fate.

Sherlock noticed that Ciaran was acting weird. He seemed to be getting more and more distant from him and spending less and less time with him. He decided to do something that he had promised himself that he wouldn't. He followed his lover around in secret and saw something that made him wish that he did not follow his lover.

Ciaran had left his apartment in order to 'go to work' but was doing something entirely different. He, instead, met a man on the street then spent the next three hours talking with him in a cafe. Normally that would not both him, except that the pair were sitting too close together. Talking too intimately. It seemed that Ciaran had found another love.

Even though it broke his heart, Sherlock knew that it had only been a matter of time before he lost him.

Sherlock was sitting on the couch when Ciaran walked inside. "Sherlock...I wasn't expecting you." He said as he placed his bag by the door. "I know...I have a question for you. And I wish for an honest answer." He said and waited for Ciaran to sit down. "Alright...what is the question?" Ciaran asked. "The last week you have been very distant. And today I decided to follow you to see what was going on. I saw you wiht another man talking in a shop...What I wish to know is...Have you found another love?" Ciaran sighed and braced face on his hands. He did not answer.

"I see...Then I wish you both happiness...Good bye"


	17. Five Years Later

Five years later.

When Ciaran had left, Sherlock had taken a look at his life and made an effort to be semi normal.  
The results were not what he thought they would be. People called him even more of a freak and stayed away from him. So he stopped trying to be normal and went back to being himself.  
He met the new girl in the morgue. Her name was Molly and seemed to have an unnatural fascination with him. Though he minded that quite a bit he could use her to gain access to the morgue. Which was useful especially now with the very odd case that had just turned up.  
It was a 10.

The body was of a middle aged man with severe halitosis and sloppy manners. He was killed by a single stab wound (Which looked to be a stiletto blade) into the heart. But what made the case interesting was the fact that the man had two gouges on his face obviously made by the killer.  
The gouges mirrored each other, starting beneath the tip of his eye brows to circle around his eyes then made a straight line to his mouth. They were perfect mirrors from each other but no one could understand why the killer would do that.  
And to make matters worse, more bodies with facial lacerations started turning up.

"Look at this one, he has a single line going from directly beneath his eye. But this one has three laceration. Two starting at the temple and going towards the bridge of the nose, while another one started in between his eyes to go up his forehead and disappear in the hair line. What do these markings mean? And why are they always on the face?" Molly asked to Sherlocks displeasure.  
"I do not know." He muttered then left the room in a swirl of annoyance.

He spent five days researching what the lacerations were. He knew that they were not caused by accident. They were too precise to be anything caused by random occurrences.  
He found what he was looking for in the British library, he had tried the Bodleian Library but came away empty handed.  
He found a small manuscript dating back to 1295 that had been shoved into the deepest darkest corner of the library. It was on the most powerful group of people in the world. The Blade Masters.  
The Blade Masters were known for their mastery of all weaponry. But they were also known as The Dogs of War, The Hell Hounds and The Seven. They ran countries, they protected towns. If they joined a war the other side lost hope. The author noted that they had punished those who broke the laws by severe and brutal punishment. They carved symbols into the perpetrators faces so that everyone would know of their crimes.  
But in 1237 they simply disappeared.  
Sherlock sighed and sat back. There was no description of the group, their where abouts, where they came from or what symbols they used as punishment. The last page said simply:  
"Nemo rules them all, Though he answers to Nemesis who lives in the Shadows. Nemo Is-"  
The rest of the page was stained with blood.  
But what was really interesting about the tomb was the fact that the very last page was covered in strange symbols. This was a different person writing here, that much Sherlock could tell.

But he did not have time to decipher the text. The Library was closing and some of the librarians had started to take an interest in him.  
So he stole the manuscript.  
He had to find out what The Blade Masters were and if they had begun anew.  
He needed to talk to Mycroft.

Sherlock met Mycroft at his house, much to his elder brothers surprise.  
"Sherlock, not that I am not joyous to see you-"  
"Relax I don't want anything but answers. I have questions pertaining to one of my cases and I need information."  
Mycroft sighed and motioned the detective indoors.

"What is so important brother mine?"  
"I have questions regarding The Blade Masters."  
Mycroft's head snapped up and he stared at his brother. "You will leave that alone. Do you hear me? They are not to be trifled with by any means."  
Sherlock grinned and leaned forward. "So I was correct then. They are still active."  
Mycroft grimaced at what he disclosed. "Yes they are active and BEST LEFT ALONE" He growled.  
"I can't it seems that one of their people has went on a murder spree. Now how can I get in contact with them?"

Sherlock growled as he waived down a cab. His brother had told him that he was handling it and to go home. That was the last he said of the matter before he sent Sherlock out of his house.

As soon as he got back to the flat he settled in to start to decipher the back pages of the manuscript he had found.

It took two weeks to do so and while he was deciphering the text, the killer had struck twice more.  
But the symbols he carved into the faces of his victims seemed to vary from person to person. One had lacerations in the shape of check marks on his cheek while another had single straight lines going from the corner of his eyes down to his collar bones.  
Each person had their own set of lacerations and no person had the same as another.  
Sherlock was almost to the end of his rope when he finally deciphered the text.

Where the moon meets the sea,  
You will meet those who live in shadow.

Sherlock sighed and threw his pen down.


	18. Nemesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright people there is no such island I believe (could be true who knows...I was too lazy to do some research.) I do have a translation for 'Luna Island' but it doesn't copy and paste well and my computer doesn't do Greek letters...  
> Also short-ish chapter with another along the way  
> And if you have ever seen/read Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy remember what the cover of the book says...
> 
> DON'T PANIC!

Sherlock sighed as he stepped off the plane.  
He was not overly fond of traveling in such a manner but there was no other way to get to Greece as quickly.  
The first thing he grabbed was a map of the area, trying his hardest to look like a tourist.  
He wondered for exactly 17.37 minutes before making his way to the boats, hiring a local to take him to Luna Island. The island received it's name from the crescent moon shape it held.  
And had never been occupied.  
Even though it has been privately owned since 1202.  
And wasn't that suspicious?

Sherlock read a book on his phone while they made their way to the island, ignoring the local who seemed happy enough to ignore him right back. But when he got off the boat the Local sped away, leaving him stranded.  
Which wasn't good as he was now stranded but good because he had definitely found the place.

"Where the moon meets the sea, meet those who live in shadow." Sherlock muttered as he started to explore the island, coming upon a ruined tower hidden by the trees.  
"Those that live in shadow..." he muttered again and walked into the tower.

Inside the tower was dark and smelled of decaying wood. Other than that it was empty.  
He sighed and turned on the flash light on his phone, looking more closely at every single stone on that made up the floor.  
The tall detective finally found a clue when he stumbled upon a statue with the symbols etched into the tablet.  
The statue was of a thin person of indiscriminate age and gender, face hidden by the cowl he wore.  
Sherlock frowned and pulled out his phone, typing in the application as he translated.  
Nemo, Second in command of The Blade Masters  
May he find the peace never afforded him in life.

Sherlock frowned at the translation then took a closer look at the other statues standing by the walls.

An hour later he found Ghost, the armorer of the Blade Masters; Phantom, the guard of the island; Scribe, who translated for everyone but Nemo.  
On and on the list statues went and his list grew.  
At the last statue he frowned as he translated the tablet.  
Nemesis, leader of us all.

Sherlock growled as he translated the last tablet.  
None of these helped him with the riddle he was left.

So he left the hall and found even more statues lining the stair cases, none of which helped him in the least.

It took almost three hours before he reached the top of the tower where a lone statue stood, his face cloaked in a cowl and yet another tablet at the base. And this time he was quick in translating the tablet.  
Shadow, the last thing you will ever see.

Then the floor crumbled beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry my pretties. This isn't the end of the story...I wouldn't kill Sherlock...well not like that anyway


	19. Luminescent Violet Eyes

Chapter 19

Sherlock fell through the top of the tower and onto an enormous stone slide. He slid down the slide until he went through a hole in the wall covered by a tapestry.   
He got to his feet and walked over to the tapestry that hid the hole and gently moved it aside, only to find a stone slab sliding into place.   
"That is interesting." He muttered and realized that he didn't fall through the tower on accident, but it was a trap laid to deposit him back into the hall.   
"I am so glad you think so Mr. Holmes." 

Sherlock whipped around to find a tall muscular man leaning against the wall watching him with amusement.   
"Let me guess one of the Blade Masters?"

The man laughed and lifted his left arm to pull down his sleeve, revealing a single line tattooed on his wrist in between his wrists. "Sorry but just a lackey. But that brings me to another point. What is it you want with the Blade Masters?" He grinned.   
Sherlock eyed the man with distrust but figured it was his only way to contact these people directly. 

"There have been a series of murders in the London area. Every victim had facial lacerations in distinguished patterns."  
The man's eyes narrowed at Sherlock. "Describe these patterns."  
"One victim had check marks beneath his eyes. Another had a single line going from his hair line to between his eyebrows. In the middle of the line was a 'W' shape."  
The man held his hand up to stop Sherlock and pulled out a phone.   
"We have a problem." The man said into his phone then sighed when he listened to the other end of the conversation. "No sir. The man told me of some victims found in the London area with symbols carved into their faces. He described two of the symbols and they are definitely ours....yes sir...I understand sir...Yes sir...Sherlock Holmes sir...I understand sir....Right away sir."  
The man then sighed as he ended the phone call and gave Sherlock a considering look. "Alright you will be contacted by one of the agents when you get back. You are free to go...and don't mention anything about this."

Sherlock frowned as the man seemed to melt into the shadows. 

When Sherlock returned home he immediately put together everything he knew about The Blade Masters and made several copies and then hid all but two of them.   
This way when his flat was searched (And he knew they will search for any and all information about them) they will take both copies {Maybe even a third} and he will be left with the rest. 

He knew that The Blade Masters were still active and it seemed as though one of them had gone on a killing spree. The island that he had visited must have been their old headquarters. Obviously they have moved within the last eight hundred years.   
He fiddled with a pen as he thought about the statues that lined the hallways. Each was given a name based on their job within the Blade Masters. All but three of them.   
Nemo, Shadow, and Nemesis. 

He was still thinking on this when the doorbell rang, and with a snarl he got up and ripped the door open only to stand there in shock.   
A pair of luminescent violet eyes stared back at him.   
"We need to talk...Preferably now." Ciaran said as he fiddled with the strap to his bag.


	20. He Got It Wrong

Alright people so in this chapter you will see all the plot bunnies laid out for you (the ones that I left like a breadcrumb trail for all you lovelies to follow)

Sherlock let Ciaran in and then sat staring at his ex-boyfriend. Little had changed about the man besides the fact that his hair was now all black.  
"I don't know where to begin-"  
"Start with why you are here."  
"You know why I'm here Sherlock. Kivan told you back on Luna Island. You will be contacted remember?"  
Suddenly everything clicked into place for Sherlock.  
Ciaran can read body language and decipher it, he can be VERY threatening when he felt like it, He had tattoos of symbols on his neck that he refused to talk about and tried to hide, the fight that he had gotten into (one where he refused to talk about) then there was his father who announced that he will follow in his footsteps. Something that he had no choice about.  
Ciaran was one of the Blade Masters.

"Start at the beginning then Blade Master." Sherlock said with a growl.

"A few years ago my grandfather died and as his successor my father became head of the branch. I didn't think anything of it until a five years ago when he made the announcement that I was to follow in his foot steps. He also said that I have to sever all ties with the outside world...or he will do it for me. Sherlock, that man you saw me talking too was not my adulterous lover, he was one of the masters come to talk to me about my decision. He was the one who told me that if I did not come home to fulfill my fathers wish then several of the Blade Masters will drag me home by force. Normally that just sounds like a threat of violence against the person but the Blade Masters are different. My father would have dispatched these assassins to kill everyone I was close too and basically make sure that the only place I could ever go again was home. I couldn't let them do that to you. So I lied and said that the man was a new love and that I had fallen out of love with you. And I understand that you have moved on with this John Watson person. But I just wanted to let you know that that was the only lie I told."

Sherlock stared at the man in front of him. "You were forced to leave."  
"Yes."  
"Because they would have killed me."  
"Yes."  
Sherlock thought for a second before blinking rapidly. "John and I are not together. He is getting married to a woman named Mary. Plus I don't think he has forgiven me for faking my death."  
"Wait a second. What are you talking about? When did you do that?!" Ciaran cried out making him smile.  
"I forgot that you don't watch the news or read the papers." Sherlock smiled and continued to explain about Moriarty and his web.  
"James Moriarty?"  
"Yes."  
Ciaran frowned and leaned back. "The psychotic little Irish man? Black hair? Likes disco music?"  
Now it was Sherlocks turn to frown. "Yes. How do you know him?"  
"He kept trying to be one of the Blade Masters. But he never passed the psychological tests so he was booted. Last I saw of him he was outside the gates screaming that we were going to be sorry. He's really dead?"  
"Shot himself in the head."  
"Figures. That's why he didn't pass the psychological exams. Anyways, the reason I'm here."  
"Ah yes the Blade Master who has gone on a killing rampage."  
"No."  
Sherlock frowned at Ciaran.

"Sherlock the one killing these people isn't a Blade Master. I took the liberty of stealing the copies of the files and when the last man was killed every Blade Master was back at headquarters attending an annual meeting."

Sherlock frowned. He got it wrong.


	21. Sounds Like A Brutal Man

Ciaran sighed as he sat back against the couch and pushed down the urge to rub his face.   
"Sherlock the person killing these people can't be one of the Blade Masters. So he must have been a descendent of someone who was. That's the only way he would know so much about them without alerting us to his presence."  
"You don't keep track of the descendents?" Sherlock asked amazed.   
"Sherlock....The Blade Masters are over A THOUSAND years old. There is not possible way to keep track of every single descendent. That would take up too much of our resources." Ciaran sighed and leaned forward. "Another thing. Those marks on the faces of the victims..."  
"What about them?"  
"Sherlock...Those markings have not been used for a very long time. I think the last person to use them was Nemo. And the man that had born them had committed an egregious betrayal."  
Sherlock thought for a moment before looking up at his ex-boyfriend through his eyelashes. "Who was this man?"  
"Off the top of my head? I do not remember. But I do know that he was guilty of selling secrets to the enemy...His punishment was very... I would not wish what happened to him on my worst enemy."  
"Nemo sounds like a very brutal man."  
"He really wasn't. That is the only example of Nemo being brutal. But you see what you don't know is that the man, Dominic I believe his first name was, the secrets that he sold caused the death of eight members and also threatened the life of Nemo's siblings."  
"So he was not very forgiving in that respect."   
"Of course not. You see Nemo's family was wiped out by the Valikias. They were a group of four assassins who were known for their brutality. They would sneak into a home or town and wipe out every living person. Men, women, children were not safe from them. They slaughtered babies in their cribs and even killed the pets. Nemo and his siblings were lucky enough to survive their attack and from then on Nemo protected them with an almost psychotic need to keep them safe. So this man not only killed his men but also threatened the life of the people he held most dear."  
Sherlock nodded in understanding. "What exactly did he do to this man?"  
"After torturing him for a fortnight, he was marked as a betrayer, a secret seller and an enemy of their guild. Then he was let loose."  
"That doesn't sound so bad."  
"Sherlock with those markings no one would hire him, no one will help him, he was beaten and almost killed multiple times because of the markings. That is the worst punishment that could ever occur."  
Sherlock leaned forward. "And this story is told to would be members?"  
"Well yes."  
"So if one of his descendents had heard it-"  
Ciaran's eyes went comically wide at that. "I'll ask one of my brothers to look into that. But you have to promise me one thing Sherlock."  
Sherlocks eyes went narrow at that. Many times he had been asked to stay out of situations (mainly by Mycroft) so he was a little leary about promising anything.  
"And what would that be?"  
"You have to promise that if you find anything or are contacted by the killer you will contact me immediately. These are extremely dangerous people Sherlock and I don't want you to get hurt."  
Sherlock thought for a moment before nodding. "I promise."  
"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright people this is chapter 21! Hopefully I can start writing again and get back to an actual schedule!


	22. not chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just wanted you peoples to know that I now have a tumblr! I have no idea how to use it! but they (My friends who may or may not be imaginary) told me that I need to spread my weirdness around! So...Yea! any questions concerns and/or comments can also be relayed there were i'm sure you can comment more that once (Unlike here)....that's all!
> 
> Also my name is salconedestrivina on there as well....

..lol..............  
-_-


	23. Otherwise I'd just tell you to go screw yourself and I'd be left alone in peace and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that it's taken this long to get a chapter out :( Life sort of got in the way and I haven't even touched my computer for the last month, Anyone else wish they can just make time appear?

After Ciaran left Sherlock paced the flat, tying together everything that he knew and what he had been told.   
The Blademasters were a secret society that had operated openly in the middle ages only to go underground.   
They were still active.   
They are feared by everyone.   
They marked their victims openly in the past.   
Their victims were generally bad people in their own right (Ex: Assassins, murderers, rapists, ect.)  
All the information seemed to flow correctly up until they suddenly disappeared from history.   
If they were so successful why would they go underground?

Sherlock asked Ciaran as soon as he walked into 221b the next day, startling the small Irishman.   
Ciaran sighed and placed his bag on the floor by the couch before facing Sherlock. "I'm sorry Sherlock but I can't tell you that."  
"But you know why they went underground."  
"Yes."  
"Why can't you tell me?" Sherlock demanded making Ciaran sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. "Sherlock, I'm not asking for much I will tell you everything you need and or want to know but this is the one thing that I CANNOT tell you." Ciaran said making Sherlock glare and then frowned when Sherlock dropped himself on the couch.   
"Ciaran I need to know what happened in case this is why the murders are happening."  
Ciaran sighed yet again and frowned in thought.   
"I'll ask. But if he says no that's the end of it." Ciaran replied finally and the look on his face warned Sherlock not to argue. Ciaran then turned around, grabbed his bag and started to leave when a thought occurred to Sherlock. "Who is HE?"

Two days later Ciaran walked into the flat only to drape himself over Sherlock's prone form.   
"You're so lucky I like you enough to talk to them for you. Otherwise I'd just tell you to go screw yourself and I'd be left alone in peace and quiet." He muttered against his back and burrowed in further. 

Sherlock sat up, dislodging the small Irishman from his back and turned around to wrap Ciaran up in his arms. "What is wrong?"   
"My family is all a bunch of psychos. That's whats wrong. But I did get permission to tell you why we went underground."  
Sherlock was immediately alert and staring. 

"You've seen the tower with the statues. The Shadow was the last one you saw before being expelled from the roof. Well he was third in command of The Blades. Nemo was second in command with Nemesis at the head. Most people who know anything about the Blades knows this. But what they do not know was that Nemesis was only a figure head. He basically just did the paperwork and let Nemo do what ever he wished. Well Nemo found out that one of their own went rogue and started going against their code. No don't ask me what it is you DEFINITELY will not get permission to know that. Anyways, this man was then... punished for his crimes against The Blades and forced to live out his life with the markings of said punishment. He killed himself a year later. His name isn't of any importance but...he did have offspring and I think that is why all these murders are happening."  
Sherlock stared at him for a second. "You think that his offspring somehow got his hands on information about the Blades and proceeded to go on a murder spree in order to bring the Blades into the light and shatter their secret society."  
"It's been tried before."  
"When?"  
"Jack the Ripper."  
Sherlock frowned at that.  
"Jack the Ripper wanted to join us but was denied and then went insane...It's a long complicated story but the moral of the story is that we're the reason that no one knows who it is. We got to her first."  
"Her?"  
"Yes her."  
Sherlock frowned again but then shook his head. "Alright so who's the descendent of the exiled Blades member?"


	24. No Shit Sherlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry that it's taken me so long to post another chapter. I swear that i don't abandon fics but there are large spaces of time between chapters sometimes because...well...life happens and it gets really busy.   
> So here's a short chapter to tide you over and i have no idea when i'm going to post next. I whole heartedly apologize

CH 23  
A week later Sherlock found himself tied up in a dungeon face to face with a (rather large) knife.  
Not for the first time he pondered at how what he had done wrong and how he could have remedied his mistakes.   
But it is easy to see what you did wrong after you had already done it. 

A WEEK PREVIOUS

Sherlock paced the living room in obvious irritation as Ciaran yet again scolded him.   
“Sherlock if you don’t stop digging into the current Blade Masters they are going to be extremely angry and trust me, they are not forgiving people. Now I had asked our record holder about what Blade Master descendants we are keeping track of and I have a list. These people have ancestors that were either kick out of the group or were killed by the group. Now we have also been keeping track of who holds interest in them. Mainly scholars and historians have researched us. But there are a few here who had backtracked their lineage to a blade member and began to dig.” Ciaran huffed as he handed Sherlock the stack of papers. “These are the ones who had begun to dig really deep into the Blade Masters.”  
Sherlocks eyes lit up as he grabbed the pages starting to scan each page.  
“This is all gibberish.”  
“No shit Sherlock. We can’t very well give you hard evidence that we exist. That’s why I’m here remember?” Ciaran rolled his eyes at the detective. “But the first page is about a man named Atherton West. He had dug even deeper than the others did. He even went as far as to try and contact us about joining the clan. He’s also a descendant of the man that Nemo exiled.”

Sherlock looked a little disappointed at Ciaran’s words.   
“Sherlock?”  
“You did all the leg work.”  
“Well yes.”  
“So this man is the most probable suspect to the murders.”  
“Yes.”

Ciaran sighed as he realized that Sherlock thought that he had solved his case. “Sherlock we don’t know for sure that it’s him. Supposedly he’s been in Barbados for the last two months. We checked and he didn’t board his cruise. In short we have no idea where he is.”

Sherlock’s eyes lit up at the challenge of finding someone that the Blade Masters could not. 

 

The next two days were a flurry of papers and annoying Mycroft for the use of his access to the CCTV camera footage.   
Finally they had received a glimpse of the suspect near the Thames. 

And of course Sherlock had run off without Ciaran. Even though the Irishman had told him to wait for him.


	25. Baa baa black sheep cutting off the wool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooooooooooooo sorry. It's been a VERY hectic year for me but I'll try to update for those of you who are waiting for chapters. Again...I'm so sorry

Ciaran sighed as he lifted his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn't be surprised that Sherlock decided to run off without him...He really shouldn't. Ciaran crouched down behind a wall, muzzle of his gun pointed to the floor as he watched Sherlock try to escape his bonds. He also watched as the captor started waiving a very large and lethal looking knife in Sherlocks face. The knife was so sharp that when the blade hit one of the detectives curls it was sheered off.

_Baa baa black sheep cutting off the wool... Maybe everyone was correct in thinking that I am a bit nuts...Oh well_

Ciaran groaned as he saw the knife wave closer and closer to his lovers face and the mans voice get louder and louder. 

"You know I could have been one of the greats! I could have done WONDROUS THINGS! But no. YOUR BOYFRIEND HAD TO GET IN THE WAY OF ALL OF THAT. ALL THOSE DESCENDANTS GOT IN THE WAY! And all this simply because of who my ancestor was."

"Your Ancestor was a murderer and a rapist and a pedophile. And now you are following in his footsteps exactly as predicted" Ciaran replied as he stepped out of the shadows, gun raised. 

"I AM NOT HIM!" The man screamed and brandished his knife away from Sherlock and towards Ciaran. 

Several shots rang out, spraying him with blood. 

  
  


Ciaran blinked and looked up to where the shots had come from. 

Mihail smiled and held up his gun. "Why do people always comes after you with knives?" He grinned and then motioned behind him where three men came forwards to pick up the mans body and carry it away. 

"You're a dick." Ciaran said as he cut Sherlock free from his bonds. 

"It's genetic"

 

 

Several hours later

 

Ciaran had Sherlock sitting on the couch as he dabbed antiseptic against one of the cuts on the detectives face.

“You're an idiot you know.”

 

Sherlock smiled up at his lover. “But we caught the man.”

Ciaran smiled back. “Idiot.”

“But I'm your idiot.”

“Yes you are.”

“Does that mean you'll marry me?”

 

Ciaran stopped abruptly and leaned back to look at the mans face. “What?”

“Never mind it was stupid.” Sherlock blushed and moved to stand up.

Ciaran grabbed his boyfriend and pushed him back against the couch and straddled his lap. “Nope. Repeat that please.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“No”

“So we agree.”

“Yes...Wait.”

Ciaran smiled at his boyfriend as he pressed a kissed to his mouth. “What was my first answer?”

“Yes.”

“There you go.”

“What?”

“You'll figure it out.”

 

 

John and Lestrade stared at the two men on the couch. “How long did it take him to figure out you said yes?” John asked making Sherlock sulk.

“Go ahead Sherl. Tell him.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“No”

“So we agree.”

“Yes...Wait.”

Ciaran smiled at his husband. “It was about a week before he actually thought about it.”

 

 


	26. And the reasoning behind this was..?

When Sherlock did in fact realize that Ciaran did say yes he was overjoyed.

It was around this time that Lestrade noticed that Sherlock was much more pleasant towards the officers at Scotland Yard. The consulting detective even went as far as complimenting him which was cause for worry. And multiple drugs busts.

 

"So you two are in fact married." John asked finally. 

"Yes."

"But no one knew about your marriage."

"No." 

"And the reasoning behind this was..?" John motioned for his friend to continue. 

"Dr. Watson, you have to realize. I was a part of an extremely secretive organization that could topple empires and countries. Even your MI6 cant touch them. With all of that brings many enemies... I wasn't going to let Sherlock get caught up in all of that. I didn't want to put his life on the line for a few days of personal happiness." Ciaran replied making the men's heart melt. 

"And now?"

"Now that I have convinced my husband that he is an idiot...OW!" Sherlock remarked then held his head where Ciaran hit him with a pillow. 

"Ciaran?" 

"Oh, well after my husband DIED" Sherlock received a withering look that made him shrink in his chair. "I went back to the blades and for two years I helped an unknown figure hunt down and eliminate a rising global threat...It was probably the worst part of my life."

Ciaran sighed then shook his head to continue. 

"After Sherlock came back to life I realized that I couldn't run from this and if Sherlock died because he was married to me then I would probably be dead beside him. After all I cannot protect him if I am not there with him."

"So basically the only way to keep Sherlock alive was to marry him and stay with him." Lestrade grinned at the small man. 

"When you put it that way..." Ciaran grinned back then squealed when Sherlock dragged him into his lap. 

"See even Gary agrees, you have to stay now."

"I don't think that's his name by the look on his face."

"And?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we have reached the end of the story of Ciaran and Sherlock. Hope you guys have had fun reading this!


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